A cold February in Cyprus

 While January was apparently warmer than usual - and it certainly didn't seem particularly cold - February this year has been decided chilly. Almost from the start of the month, the temperatures dropped. We were very glad that we decided to replace our central heating boiler last year. It has a control system that allows us to set the maximum temperature without heating for different times, during the day. 

So overnight it won't come on unless the temperature drops below something like 14 degrees C. In the morning upstairs it comes on if it's cooler than 18C for an hour or so, which warms the towel rail in the bathroom and raises the ambient temperature.  Similarly, through the day, there are different states and temperatures which trigger it to come on.  

And it works perfectly. If we want extra heat, we can turn the thermostat up a degree or two. If we're going out, or not using one floor of the house, we can turn it down so as not to heat an unused space. Individual radiators can be turned up or down, too.  

In December and January, it barely came on at all. We did notice that the gas level was running low early in January, so we ordered more. We have a large tank outside our boiler room, and a man comes with a gas truck to fill it up when we request it. 

The winter of 2023/2024 was so mild that we only had to have it filled once. Our kitchen stovetop is powered by gas too, so we use small amounts for that through the year. And the heating was working in January, and more so in early February when the temperatures dropped. So much so that we had to order another refill of the gas tank around February 10th. 

We didn't think that was too bad. With our previous boiler, we sometimes had to order new gas every two or three weeks in colder periods. This time it had been over five weeks.

But it got colder. Gradually, day by day, I added more warm items of clothing to wear when I went out for an early morning walk. By February 20th, it was warmer in the UK than in Larnaka. Which was fortunate for Richard, as he had flown there for ten days.  There was even snow in some parts of the island, quite extensive in the mountains. 

I felt quite sorry for families who had come to Cyprus for the UK half-term break (either last week or this week, depending on location), hoping for a bit of warmth. 

Yesterday, I took this screenshot from my phone just after 6.00am, shortly before joining my friend Sheila for a walk around the Salt Lake:  

Yes, that says one degree Celcius, 'feels like' minus 3. Maximum of 14, and a note at the bottom saying that temperatures would be a little higher than the previous day.

Wrapped in scarf, knitted hat, gloves and an extra jacket, I still felt cold, although walking helped to warm me up. For the first time this year, there was ice in the park on some (though not all) of the wildflowers:

There was ice on the park benches, too, although in this photo it looks more like a kind of mould:

I had kept checking the gas - we have someone staying in our guest flat, so the heating is on there as well as in the main part of the house - and by yesterday it was quite low, so we ordered some more. It took not much more than two weeks this time, but then the heating has been on almost continually for the past four or five days.  With fairly high ceilings, tiled floors and poor insulation, Cyprus houses are not built for the cold. So the temperature never reached the figures we had set.

Strangely, though, when the heating is on, even if the thermostat only shows 14 or 15 degrees, the house feels warmer than when the heating is off and the thermostat shows 17 or 18. 

Then today it was six degrees at 6.00am. It felt so much pleasanter when I went out to the froutaria. I didn't even wear gloves, though I still put on my knitted hat. And the forecast is much more reasonable - and seasonably normal - for the next couple of weeks:

So perhaps we won't have to have the gas tank filled again until next winter.

A working boiler and other incidents

 I mentioned in my last post that the weather, at last, was beginning to cool down in mid-January. Our central heating boiler, which had been unreliable for many years, had another service just before Christmas. That is to say, Richard did the standard cleaning and checking valves, but nothing happened. So he called out the engineer - a local and friendly person. He arrived, checked everything, and then gave part of it a big thump. That worked, and the heating came on. 

But it wasn't all that cold, so we weren't surprised when it didn't come on the following day. On Christmas Day itself, we used our air conditioners set to heat. A few days later when it was quite chilly, Richard went to the boiler room and hit the system in the place where the engineer had shown him. He had to try two or three times, but it did the trick: the heating came on. For an hour or two...

A couple of days later, the same scenario was repeated. And Richard said he was a bit worried that he might break something. In previous years we sometimes had to run down and press a button to turn the heating on, but this was more serious. Perhaps, we thought, it was time for a new boiler. 

The heating engineer told us that a new one would be much more efficient - potentially saving us a fair amount in gas bills - and that our old one was so archaic, he didn't think it could be repaired. He came to the house and measured all our radiators (we have at least twenty, including those in our guest flat and some that we don't use), so he could calculate how much power was necessary. And then, after doing some research, he gave us a quote which seemed quite reasonable. 

And while it was a bit of a hassle for him, with just one assistant, to remove the old boiler - it was very heavy! - the installation of the new one was fairly quick, and everything was finished within one (long) day. 

There's a lot more space in the boiler room now. This new boiler looks remarkably like the one we had in our house in the UK over twenty-five years ago. And while it still hasn't been VERY cold, we've had chillier mornings and rain:

And the boiler has worked! We have a thermostatic system in the house so the heating only comes on for a couple of hours in the morning, and a couple in the evening (when it's cold enough) and it's done exactly what it should. It's much quieter than the old system, too. Rather surprisingly, when the heating is on it also heats our water, although we didn't expect it to have done that. Most of our water heating is solar, and we have an electric boost that we had been using when the sun wasn't out. There's a gas boost too, but we've hardly needed that, since the days when the sun doesn't come out are usually (though not always) the days when it's chilly enough for the heating to come on.

And if the steamer, the washing machine and the boiler weren't enough, the day after we had decided to replace the boiler, my stick blender stopped working when I was making some ketchup.  We had an excellent one which had worked well for about thirteen years. I was able to use my regular blender for the ketchup, but it was a bit of a nuisance having to decant everything into the large goblet, and then try to get it all out. Three weeks later and there's still a tomato stain on the cutting blades. 

But my main use of the stick blender is for soup, which I make every other week during the cooler months: usually from November until about March or April. Putting that in an ordinary blender means it has to be cooled quite significantly, then usually only half of it will fit even in the bigger goblet... so we decided to buy a new stick blender.  Unlike a decade or so ago, there were several options at a local DIY shop, so we chose a Bosch brand. 

Then I reorganised some cupboards to make space for the extra bits, and put the steamer away (but with easier access than before), so the new stick blender could sit on the work surface. And we bought a plug extension thing so I don't need to keep pulling plugs in and out for these appliances:

The cats, meanwhile, have very much appreciated the house being less chilly than it was before we had the new boiler. Lady Jane loves the radiators: 

And to my astonishment, our bird of paradise plant, which bloomed in October for the first time in eight years, has another bloom that opened out about a week ago:

Even more surprisingly, there is another one which is evidently going to open within the next week or two:

I hope this doesn't mean that it will be 24 years before it blooms again...

And finally, showing the mixed nature of Cyprus weather, where it's sometimes very sunny as well as quite chilly, we usually go for a short walk along the sea-front on Friday mornings, to check our PO Box. One one of those Fridays, we were feeling quite chilled with the wind (despite the sun) so stopped at Cafe Nero for some excellent hot chocolate, made with coconut milk. 

Hurricane in Larnaka?

Yesterday, it was drizzling a little in the afternoon. But we've had so much rain recently that I thought nothing of it. Tim - who got back to Cyprus on Tuesday evening, for a couple of weeks - was out with some of the youth group, and arrived home around 6.15.

Five minutes later, we heard wind whistling around the house. We saw lightning flashes, although the thunder seemed to be a long way off. The wind got stronger, and we heard some crashes, as if things were being blown over. Then some hail fell, and finally rain. The lightning continued for at least half an hour, along with the wind. Tim was very glad that he got back when he did; I called Richard, who was still at the office, and he said he'd stay there until the rain eased, since he walked rather than driving.

The wind gradually died down, and Richard eventually got home about 8.30. There was a slight leak over the stairs, but not as bad as usual, so I didn't think any more about it.

Until this morning, when I popped out around 7.30am to buy some oranges, and was greeted by this site on our downstairs patio:


I righted the three plants which had blown over - they seemed undamaged - and decided to leave the cleaning of the dirt until it had dried up somewhat.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Richard's sailing buddy - another Tim - was there. He said he'd happened to drive past the main sailing club last night, and it looked as if there was a lot of devastation with high winds, and also high waves. He thought Richard's boat was undamaged, although somewhat blown over, but wanted to get down there to check, and perhaps help to right some of the damage. So Richard got up quickly, grabbed the camera and some rope, and headed down to the club.

He was relieved to find that his boat is indeed fine, as far as he could see, but, as he wrote on his Wayfarer blog, the high winds caused a fair bit of chaos and some damage. If you follow that link, you can see the photos he took.

I don't know if it was technically 'just' high winds, or a hurricane, or even a tornado. Whatever it was, it was short-lived but probably caused a great deal of devastation. Just having three plants knocked over was very minor.

Rain in Cyprus

So, after a couple of weeks of wall-to-wall sunshine, and unseasonably warm temperatures, we had some rain yesterday. Half an hour or so late morning - quite heavy - and some light rain in the evening. That was fine: we do need the rain, after all.

This morning, we woke up to more rain. We were up in good time, and by about 8am the rain seemed to have stopped, though it was still rather grey. Richard hoped to start painting King Malu today, so we decided to do our big monthly shop at Metro supermarket, first thing.

We spent a horrendous amount of money for one - admittedly very full - trolley of groceries. There weren't even many fruit and vegetables, since I get most of those at the local Froutaria. We picked up three bags of the slightly older apples, oranges and carrots which were on special offer, but no more. I did buy quite a bit of meat - chicken breast was on special offer, and we also bought some stewing steak, mince, and boneless chicken thighs... my supply of frozen meals is running low so I need to make some more slow-cooked dishes.

Then there were the 'staples', which tend to be pricey in Cyprus. Dishwasher powder and salt, cat food, canned tomatoes and baked beans, frozen peas, coffee, molasses, several kilogrammes of flour, sugar, and so on. I bought some pineapple juice, rice milk and Weetabix since Tim will be home for Christmas in about ten days. Yes, this is - I hope - basically sufficient groceries for the next month, at least, other than the things I buy locally. Oh, and the turkey which we've ordered, and the cranberries which I hope will be available in another couple of weeks.

But still, adding up the amount mentally as the items went through the till was a bit shocking; the bill was in fact slightly less than I had estimated, but still more than I can ever remember spending before in one supermarket visit.

Perhaps it's so long since we've been there that the prices have gone up without me noticing..

The weather stayed fine while we were shopping, which was just as well since it took a while to load everything into the car, and we would have got rather wet if it had been raining.

Unfortunately, the winch system that we should be able to use to bring our shopping upstairs is not working at present. So it looked as if we were going to be up and down our stairs,carrying in supermarket bags, for several minutes. So we were rather pleased with our friends Sheila and Marie drew up in their car, and asked if they could come and change the books Marie had borrowed. Of course, I said... and wondered if they'd like to help carry things in! They obliged willingly, so we only had two trips up and down per person.

We chatted awhile, then Richard went off to King Malu, to work on the inside since it was too damp to paint the outside. I unpacked the groceries and put most of them away, then sat down to read and write some email.

About half an hour later the heavens opened. And it poured. We've seen some heavy rain in Cyprus at times, but I don't remember ever seeing quite such a concerted effort as this storm. It kept going for at least two hours, solidly.

It's very difficult to capture rain in a still photograph, but here's my best attempt. If nothing else you can see how grey the day looks in our neighbourhood. The flat roof over the road is shining with rain, and if you look hard you can see rain splashing off the street. At the bottom right of the picture you can actually see some rain, caught by the camera:


Even that doesn't show the incredible downpour. I think Terry Pratchett described best what we had today, in his excellent book for children, 'Truckers':

'..the kind of rain that is merely an upright sea with slots in it '

The problem with heavy rain is that our roof still leaks over our indoor staircase. So I placed not just the bucket, but the large coolbox on the stairs to catch most of the rain:


It was only dripping into these receptacles, but by the time the rain ceased, there were at least 5cm of water in each of them.

I shall be interested to see how full the Salt Lake is now.

A little rain in Cyprus

We've had friends staying in our guest flat for the past two and a half weeks. They used to live in Cyprus, so they know the area well, and have plenty of other friends who are still here. We had a few meals with them, and introduced them to some of our new friends, but mostly they did their own thing.

For the whole time they were here, the sky was blue, the weather warm for November. Not hot enough to swim, or lie on the beach, but perfect for sitting outside to eat, going for walks, and perhaps doing a little shopping.

Today it felt distinctly cooler, and for most of the morning the sky was grey.

Richard took our visitors to the airport early this afternoon. The new Larnaka airport opened a couple of weeks ago, and now all flights are using it. He didn't go inside; he had to get back to the office, so he dropped them off outside. Was there more room, I wondered. Apparently not. He said that although there was more parking space than there was at the old airport, the drop-off area was chaos. He thinks it's probably smaller than the one at the old airport. Ah well... this IS Cyprus!

About the time our friends' flight was due to leave, I heard a few drops of rain. When I looked out a few minute later, the nearby roofs looked quite wet. I don't suppose the shower lasted more than about five minutes, but it felt distinctly cooler afterwards.

Perhaps, at last, Winter is going to start.

Switching on the central heating

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the gas man arriving and deliving the first bottled gas of the season. He obviously recognised that we would be thinking about central heating before too long.

However, it stayed relatively warm until a few days ago. It's only in the last couple of days that I've started wearing a sweatshirt all day, rather than just in the evenings. Even as recently as Tuesday morning I spent the morning without one, when I walked to Tots. But by Tuesday evening, I was beginning to feel distinctly chilly. So Richard decided, as he had some free time, that he would service the central heating.

The boiler is in a little shed at the back of the house:


It's pretty dusty in there, and the pipes look a bit of a muddle, but it works. Basically it just needs cleaning out at the start of the season. It didn't take too long this year. About fifteen minutes in all. Richard switched the heating on, and the radiators sprung into life. We have several of these - looking much like British radiators - in various spots around the house and guest flat:


Actually there are more than we need. So we keep some of them permanently switched off. We don't even run the heating very warm: about 17C is plenty, just to keep the chill off the house during mornings and evenings.

I have to admit I don't notice it much in the evenings. Today was quite warm again, and the house isn't cold. But I do like having the heating come on around 6.30am when I get up.

The cats like it too.

Feeling a little chilly in Cyprus

Usually we start to feel cold at the end of the first week of November, so we're doing well this year. This morning, for the first time in many months, I went down to the kitchen and felt chilly. Not freezing cold, but even in my warm, full-length dressing gown, I felt a slight shiver when I opened the kitchen window and the study door, to let in some fresh air and to allow the cats to get in and out. It was only 6.30 - I seem to wake at that time even if Sophia doesn't wake me - but the sun was up, so I was surprised that I felt cold.

An hour or so later I took Richard his coffee and fresh orange juice, and mentioned that it was cold. 'Is that good or bad?' he asked, from the depths of our warm bed. I thought for a moment. 'Good,' I said. I do prefer chilliness to excessive heat, after all. The day felt fresh, and one can always put on more layers.

So after I had my shower, I put on a fleece. However, another hour later when I was preparing to go outside, to walk to a church service, I realised that it was considerably warmer. So I shed the fleece, and was comfortable walking in my tee-shirt and cotton trousers. Socks and trainers rather than sandals, long trousers rather than shorts... and also a sunhat and some sunglasses. And I walked in the shade, as much as I could.

It was warmer still by the time I came home again. It wasn't until about 5pm that I started feeling a little chilly again. Time to close the windows, pull the curtains, and find that fleece once more.

Getting chillier in Cyprus

I usually wake about 6.30am at this time of year. Sophia thinks I should get up when it gets light, and mews loudly to let me know. However, today she didn't do her duty, and I was still fast asleep at 7.30am. I came to, aware of a loud noise somewhere. The dustmen? No, not that kind of noise. A neighbour with a power tool? No, not that kind of noise either. It was some kind of banging, which sounded as if it were somewhere quite close.

Then I heard rain pattering against the window, and some wind. Perhaps, I thought, it was an empty dustbin blowing about.

So I got up, and pottered about, and started my day.

It wasn't until mid-morning, when I looked in our outside letter box that I spotted it. A bill from the gas man. In our previous house, we had small gas canisters which had to be replaced fairly frequently. Here, because we have gas central heating as well as gas rings for cooking, we have a large barrel, which has to be topped up by a man who comes in a truck. He doesn't come in the summer. But around this time of year, he starts appearing. Theoretically it's about once a fortnight, but in practise it's nearer once a month.

The bill was stamped with today's date, and time of 7.31am.

Evidently the banging was the gas man at the door.

Since it's Cyprus, and people mostly don't pay bills immediately, or even on time, we won't have to pay this until next time the gas man comes. And I suppose Richard will have to service the heating system at the weekend.

The weather this year really has changed rapidly from summer to (almost) winter. All right, so temperatures of 20C aren't exactly chilly, and even the night-time 16C isn't THAT cold. But in a house with tiled floors, it doesn't feel at all warm.

It's only a week since I put our thin, 4.5 tog duvet on the bed. I wasn't even sure we'd need it at first. I assumed it would be fine for at least a few more weeks.

I was wrong.

Today when I changed the sheet and pillowcases, I also decided to put the warm 9 tog duvet on the bed. I don't think I've ever done that quite so early in the year. In 2007, I put the warm duvet on three weeks later.

I wore a sweatshirt all day today, too.

The forecast is for sunshine and warmer weather in the next few days; I just hope it doesn't get as hot, again, as it was at the end of October.

Rain in Cyprus... again!

The early part of March was Spring-like, sunny and starting to get warm.

On Sunday this week, however, it turned distinctly chilly. I set out for church wondering whether or not to take my fleece, in addition to wearing a sweater. I was very glad I did. I wondered if I should have taken an umbrella too, since by the time I arrived it was somewhat overcast. But it didn't rain on Sunday.

I checked the temperature, and found it was only 16C. Pretty cold for Cyprus at the end of March.

I was mildly amused to read that the UK apparently had a heatwave on Sunday. People were flocking to beaches, and shedding their sweaters to go out in their gardens for the first time. The temperature? 15C. Evidently I have acclimatised more than I had realised.

It's stayed chilly here all week. Today was even colder. I put an extra thin sweater on under my warm hooded fleece, and by mid-morning had added a fleece too, and that's without going out of the house. All morning the sky became increasingly greyer, and it's now pouring with rain.

All good stuff from the point of view of the reservoirs, of course (assuming that there's also rain in Limassol and Paphos) but not much fun for visitors to Cyprus.

Yet more rain in Cyprus

I think it has rained every day this week. Some light, some heavy. Sometimes for just a few minutes, sometimes for considerably longer. Sometimes accompanied by thunder and lightning. None of it, surprisingly, at the annoying angle that makes it come through our roof over the stairs. So all in all, I've been very thankful for the rain, albeit a bit sorry for anyone visiting Cyprus in the hope of some winter sunshine.

Mind you, the sun does usually shine in between the rain bursts. And while it's been on the chilly side, it's not really cold. I'm still going around in a warm fleece and sweatshirt, running the heating for an hour in the morning and a few hours in the evening, and using our double-thickness duvet at night. But people who arrived in Cyprus more recently, and tourists, seem to be going around in tee-shirts and shorts during the daytime. I have evidently acclimatised, at least somewhat.

I scan the online versions of the local newspapers every few days, to see what news there is about the drought situation. The Cyprus Mail a couple of days ago informed us that water is now almost double the levels it was this time a year ago. So that's encouraging.

Even more encouraging is that the current Minister for Agriculture appears to be a man with some sense and foresight. Plans for further desalination plants for Cyprus are not going to be cancelled this time, despite good amounts of rain.

Update on the Cyprus water shortage

As I type, the sky is grey and it's raining. Again. This winter seems to have been rainier than any I can remember for some years. I do feel sorry for British families who are out here for the half-term break, hoping for some sunshine and warmth, after a cold and snowy winter in much of the UK. It's only 15C today, and I'm feeling chilly despite wearing a warm sweatshirt and a fleece.

We are still limited to mains water every other day, for about ten hours. Since the cold water tanks are pretty big, this doesn't really pose a problem for us, although it reminds us to be reasonably careful. However, our neighbours still hose down their patios early in the morning, and wash their cars with hoses at the weekend (when the police are not working). The Cypriot mindset seems to be that rain will come eventually, and that there's really plenty to go around... despite the reservoirs being less than 10% full a couple of months ago.

Admittedly, the signs are somewhat positive at present. According to the Cyprus weekly, water stocks are rising. The reservoirs are now at around 12% full, and they hope that de-salination will provide the extra that's needed this summer. The water tankers coming from Greece will continue until March, but the contract will not be renewed. The government may even reduce the rationing.

It doesn't seem very wise to stop getting the water from Greece, or to consider giving us mains water all the time, since 12% is still pretty empty. Certainly, the island is looking very green at present, and according to a friend in Paphos, some rivers are flowing again. We've heard, too, that there's more snow than usual in the Troodos mountains. When it melts, it will help to replenish the reservoirs somewhat.

But there's no guarantee that next winter will have much rain, and if we start being given water continually, our Cypriot friends and neighbours will use their hoses daily, rather than every other day.

Ah well. This IS Cyprus. And I suppose the relaxed attitude of 'God (or the government) will supply the water' is more healthy than continually worrying about whether we're going to run out. Until we actually DO run out, of course...

Is it Spring in Cyprus?

When we lived in the UK, I loved the first signs of spring. Snowdrops poking through the ground herald the end of winter, then daffodils, and primroses tell us that spring is on the way. The trees that all lost their leaves start to show new life. This winter has been particularly cold in the UK this year. Temperatures below freezing for several nights, and more snow than has fallen in at least 18 years. Nothing to the cold we experienced when we lived in Colorado (in the USA) for a couple of years, but still much colder than usual.

Of course, in the UK it's sometimes hard to spot Summer. Spring lengthens, and then Autumn starts, with a few warm days - perhaps - some time in July or August.

In Cyprus it's rather different. Summer is pretty much guaranteed, from early June until late September. There's autumn - of sorts - which means that we start to find our sweatshirts and long trousers again after months of shorts and tee-shirts. We dig out the thin duvets, and get the heating serviced. We might even have to use the electric boost if the solar heating isn't working too well on the water.

We realise it must be winter when we need fleeces as well as sweatshirts, and the thick duvet rather than the thin one. But citrus trees carry on producing fruit, and many flowers still bloom. A few trees lose some leaves in Autumn, but not many. Each tree has its own cycle, and plenty seem to be evergreen.

As for Spring, it's a bit negotiable. There aren't many spring bulbs here; the ground never gets cold enough for them. But this morning I actually felt warm enough to go out to the local Froutaria without a sweatshirt on. There was a pleasant light breeze, and I suppose it was about 18C, but for some reason it felt warmer than it has done recently. For an hour or so, anyway. By lunchtime I put the sweatshirt back on again, and I'm not ready to abandon the thick duvet in favour of a thin one yet.

I mentioned that we used our sole lemon a few days ago. Today I noticed some lemon blossom on the tree:


Walking to the supermarket, I saw plenty of weeds on empty land, which we usually expect in March rather than February:

and also these rather attractive flowers, which I assume are some kind of marigold. They look bigger than French ones, but smaller than African ones.


Geraniums and bougainvillea are also colourful at this time of year, and many of the citrus trees are still laden with fruit.

This is a time of year when I really like being in Cyprus.

A single lemon

At the back of the house which we rented for nearly nine years, there was a huge garden. Mostly something of a wilderness, but it had some amazing trees. There were three flourishing lemon trees, as well as two or three newer ones. There was also a fabulous orange tree. There were pomegranate trees and mespila (loquat) trees and mulberry trees too, but I don't miss those in the least. Nor do I miss the garden. But I did enjoy being able to pick oranges or lemons for several months of the year, any time I wished.

When we moved to this house, with just a patio at the front, we bought an orange tree and a lemon tree, in pots. They don't seem to be doing anything spectacular, but each one produced exactly one piece of fruit this year. We've watched the lemon for some months now, first small and green, then lemon-sized and green, then gradually turning more and more yellow.



This week, we used it. In some hot honey and lemon at bedtime, since we were both feeling slightly cold-ish. And somehow it did taste better than making the drink, as we usually do, with lemons from the Froutaria.

Red sky at night

It's not often that we see attractive sunsets in Cyprus. Clear skies during the day mean that the sky simply darkens around sunset, fairly rapidly, and then it's night time.

But a few days ago, I happened to glance up as I was sitting at my computer, and saw this:



Well, that wasn't the exact view I saw. But the sky was like that. So I grabbed my camera and went out on my little balcony, and took several photos, of which these views were the best:



It didn't last long. Five minutes later, and the sky was dark. Still, I hoped it was enough for any shepherds in the neighbourhood to be delighted. Not that I've ever seen any sheep in Larnaka.

It wasn't even particularly accurate, as far as sky predictions go. It didn't rain the following day, but it was a bit grey. In fact, the sky was grey all weekend. Richard was in Limassol, doing the last part of his Day Skipper course so it's a good thing the weather stayed fine, albeit a bit dull.

But on Monday morning there was a brief storm with a lot of wind and a very light sprinkling of rain for a few minutes. And today there was a bit more rain.

Richard tells me that according to the weather charts - which he studies extensively these days - there is usually a big storm in Cyprus on or around February 9th. It still looks somewhat grey outside, although the sun shone for an hour or two just after lunch, so it may still come.

Rain in Cyprus

We seem to have had more rain in the past few months than I can remember in recent years. Apparently it's still under average for the season. At the start of January, one of the free Larnaka magazines reported that the reservoirs were still only 4% full.

Over the weekend, we had a lot of rain. Or so it seemed. British style light rain for most of the morning, with some Cypriot style heavy rain later on. Our roof leaked over the stairs, as usual, and there was even a small puddle on the floor in Daniel's room. Evidently we need to get someone to look at the roof again soon.

On Sunday, it was still a bit grey, but looked fairly dry when I set out to walk to a church service. However, when I had rounded a couple of corners, this sight met my eyes:



It wasn't a new sight. I saw flooding like this a couple of years ago and it was easy enough to take a detour along a street that is less prone to flooding.

Since then, the sun has been out and the temperatures up to 20C, so it's all dried up. But I did wonder if the rain would have made any difference at all to the Cyprus dams.

I managed to find a brief article from the Cyprus Mail, saying that Dam capacity is up by one per cent. They are apparently now over 7% full, so evidently there's already been some increase during January. There's snow on Troodos too, which will melt and provide more water in the spring.

7% is still very, very low. As far as we know, tankers are still coming regularly from Greece to bring more water to Limassol. And - as is clear from that Cyprus Mail article - nobody in authority really knows what to do.

In the meantime, we're still restricted to mains water for about ten hours every other day. With our tank filling up three or four times per week from the mains, we haven't yet run out. I'm not sure if these restrictions are actually making any real difference, other than to remind us to be careful.

Life in Cyprus gets back to normal

Last week a strange kind of rash developed on my face, from about Monday until Sunday. I bumped into a friend in the local supermarket, and some other people we know in Metro on Friday. And we had friends over for a meal Friday evening. All of them stared at me in horror and asked what on earth I had done. Thankfully it started to fade on Sunday and is mostly gone by now.

I feel just about back to normal, like life in general. On Saturday I ironed the Christmas tablecloths and packed them away. On Sunday Richard finished the last of the Christmas cake, so I cleaned the large container and put that away.

Also on Sunday, our first guests of the year arrived to stay in our downstairs flat. They are an American couple who used to live in Larnaka and belonged to our house group. They've been in the US for a while and will shortly be returning to where they currently live in the Middle East.

On Monday I went to the Post Office as usual, and then to the first meeting of the year for the Larnaka Christian Writers' Association. In the afternoon I did the accounts, and caught up with email... and we hit a problem with our UK online banking, which Richard tried (in vain) to solve in the evening, at great length. We had some friends over for a meal, and I used up the last of our mincemeat making a mincemeat upside-down cake for dessert.

This morning I went to Tots, the mother-and-toddler group where I help out in the kitchen. At lunchtime, Richard spent considerable time on the phone being passed from pillar to post around our UK bank, being told different stories and still not restoring access to our online banking. It was mid-afternoon before he finally got through to someone who actually did what he could to help. Whether or not it will remains to be seen.

Tim sent me a report to proof-read, and I caught up with more email, blog-reading, Facebook applications, and so on.

The weather is still chilly, no more than about 15C during the daytime, but a great deal pleasanter than it was. It almost feels as if Spring might be on its way.

Christmas season comes to a close

We're not really into traditions in our household. We don't make a big thing of decorating the house for Christmas, although I suppose we do it much the same way each year. And we usually take the decorations down again on January 5th. I'm not sure why, other than that it IS traditional... and if we didn't take them down then, they'd probably hang around for weeks longer, while we stopped even noticing them.

So, on Monday evening, we took down the cards, even though a couple of them had only arrived that morning. They're sitting in a pile on a little table in my study, and will no doubt stay there until one of the cats knocks them over. I like to look through them once more, and I always hate throwing them away. But we are trying to cut down on clutter, and really don't want to keep an ever-increasing pile of cards in the house. Nobody seems to want used Christmas cards for crafts any more, and we don't even have paper recycling in Cyprus. So, while I hesitate about throwing them away, they'll sit collecting dust in a pile.

I removed the tree decorations, and Richard put away the lights and dismantled the tree, helped - or rather, hindered - by Sophia. Then I gathered up the other bits and pieces - mostly candles - and we put them all away. The whole process took about twenty minutes, and the living room looked a bit empty at the end.

I washed our two Christmas tablecloths today. When I've ironed them, they too can go away until next year. This morning I took apart the two jigsaw puzzles we did on Christmas afternoon, too.

The one thing that remains is our poinsettia. Two years ago, Richard brought this poinsettia home from the office. And it survived all year. In December 2007, just when it was beginning to look tired and straggly, some friends came to lunch and gave us this magnificent poinsettia. It, too, survived all year, and was beginning to look tired and straggly a week or two before Christmas.

Many years ago, a friend told us that in Anglican churches, when something happens two years in a row, it's immediately dubbed a tradition. Being good Anglicans, at least before we came to Cyprus, it is evidently now traditional in our household to have a new poinsettia during December. So about a week before Christmas, we went out to our local plant shop, and bought one:



Of course, it's no longer a Christmas decoration. As of Monday night, it's just a house plant. And if it follows the traditions of its predecessors, it will continue to bloom red bracts until at least March, and will then stay green and flourishing until some time in December.

Yesterday was Epiphany, an important feast in the life of traditional church congregations, including the Greek Orthodox majority of Cyprus. It's also a public holiday. In Larnaka, there's a special ceremony in the morning, where a heavy and valuable cross is thrown into the sea, and several young men dive for it. The one who finds it is (in a strange mixture of folklore and religion) supposed to have good luck for the rest of the year. We went to see this, several years ago, but there wasn't much to see from a spectator point of view, so we haven't been again. Besides, it's a bit chilly.

Today, most of the schools returned after the Christmas break. Although in some countries, including Egypt, today is the one celebrated as Christmas Day. For them, the Christmas season goes on another couple of weeks, while for us it feels as if the New Year is starting properly. Regular activities will resume next week.

Larnaka rain, and the bucket on the stairs

It's been cold, the last few days. The sun has mostly shone, but the temperature hasn't risen above about 12C, and it's been down to about 3C overnight.

This morning I awoke to the sound of gentle rain. Less chilly than before, but grey skies. We need the rain. Desperately. Cyprus is still relying on tankers of water from Greece, as well as the de-salination plants. The authorities give us mains water for about twelve hours, every other day, in the hope of encouraging people to use less. I'm not sure that we do, since our water tank is more than sufficient for two of us in the intervening time, but perhaps it cuts down some of the general wastage.

By the time I went out to a church service, the rain had stopped. It still looked a bit grey, though, so at the last moment I grabbed an umbrella. Just as well, since the heavens opened an hour and a half later as I was on my way home. Not with seasonal angels singing glory to God, or peace on earth, but with rain which got heavier and heavier, as I walked faster and faster towards home.

When I finally got back, my first move - after removing my rather sodden trainers and finding some dry shoes and socks - was to fetch our one and only bucket from our outside utility area, and place it strategically on the stairs.


Many houses in Cyprus seem to leak somewhere in heavy rain. In our last house, we had several leaks, most of them in the living room and Tim's bedroom. Here we only have one, and it's conveniently over the stairs. They're not even carpeted, as UK stairs generally are, so cleaning up the water isn't difficult. But I still like to catch what I can.

We did have someone try and mend our roof a couple of years ago, when we discovered this problem. He fixed some loose tiles, but could not discover where this particular leak comes from. A couple of months ago, Richard crawled into the loft space in the hope of seeing daylight through wherever the hole is.. but could find nothing. The leak only occurs when there is heavy rain at a certain angle, depending on the wind, so it's probably getting in some gap under the roof tiles. There's probably nothing we can do about it, other than to catch what we can in the bucket, and mop up the rest.

It's part of living in Cyprus.

An unusual plant

I was given a most unusual looking plant on Christmas Day:


The leaves look vaguely like those of a spider plant, without the variegation. The pink centre piece looks stunning, though almost artificial. And then there were two purple flowers growing out of it, one each side.

The person who gave it to me said it was a bromeliad, apparently. Not that she knew anything about them, and I had only heard of them with reference to Terry Pratchett's 'Bromeliad' trilogy of books for children.

On Boxing Day, I looked up bromeliads in my three books about plants in Cyprus or the Mediterranean. No joy. Not even a mention.

Then I turned to my trusty old Readers Digest tome, 'Success with House Plants'. Several times I have found this actually more helpful than the books that are supposed to be about plants in the region.

Sure enough, they had a section on bromeliads. Apparently, this one was of the Tillandsia type. And when I looked those up, I was astounded to discover a picture that was clearly my plant:


Since we're not very good with house plants, we usually put new plants outside after a few days, and they do much better. However, this plant - Tillandia Cyanea - does not, according to this book, tolerate temperatures of less than about 12C. It's significantly less than that overnight, at present, so we've left it inside, in the dining room. It doesn't need watering, just gentle spraying with a mister. So I bought one of those, and have been spraying it gently.

The two purple flowers fell off after a couple of days, but then a new one appeared, as shown in the photo above. So it's survived its first week...

December in Cyprus

Although the evenings are chilly, the weather is really very pleasant at the moment. I'm sure it's usually cooler than this by now, but it's been around 20C for the past week, during the daytime, with sunshine most of the time. Today it did cloud over in the early afternon, and then poured with rain for about ten minutes.. but that's the first rain in a couple of weeks.

Of course, we do still need rain desperately. But water is coming in tankers from Greece, and a new de-salination plant is being built. In the meantime, it really doesn't seem too hard to cope with mains water only being switched on for about ten hours, every other day.

The plants are doing well, enjoying the cooler weather. Right outside our front door I have three plants, all of which were given to me as house plants. But we don't do very well with plants indoors - other than our poinsettias, they all start to droop and look miserable after a few weeks. But moving them outside seems to give them a new lease of life. Here's a kalanchoe that Richard bought me about a year ago. The pink flowers died fairly quickly, but it stayed alive through the summer, and now is a mass of pink again:



More surprising, at least to me, is a chrysanthemum plant that we were given, also around a year ago. It flowered nicely for about a week, then started looking very tired and sad. I've never had a chrysanthemum last for very long, but I put it outside, and cut off the dead-heads, and kept it watered through the summer... and around the beginning of November, it rewarded us with the most amazing yellow blooms which are still going strong:



I can't quite believe it's already a week into December. I never do much in preparation for Christmas before the end of November, and then always feel caught out when the first week of December races past, almost unnoticed. I was going to buy various presents online today, until I read that it's apparently the most popular online shopping day of the year. I don't want to overwhelm the online shop servers, or get my orders confused with other people's, so I'm going to leave it until tomorrow.

I've bought a load of Christmas cards, but haven't yet written any. That will take almost an entire day, quite apart from the hour or two necessary to stick the stamps on and post them. I've jotted down notes for our family newsletter, but haven't yet found relevant photos or even typed it. We decided that if we're going to put up a tree and do some decorations, we should do them before Wednesday when Richard's colleagues and their families are coming for a festive lunch, but we haven't done it yet. Perhaps tomorrow...

It's been a busy few days, for someone like me who's an Introvert and needs a lot of time alone. On Friday, our house group met here for about 45 minutes, to eat bread and cheese, and a lentil soup I'd had simmering in the slow-cooker all day. Then we went on to the inter-church youth group 'variety night' fund-raiser, where there were mince pies and other goodies for sale. On Saturday, I baked my first 24 mince pies, since we were invited to a 'tea' in the afternoon, with more cake and other goodies. On Sunday we were out for lunch with friends.

In addition, the German lady I mentioned in my previous post stayed in our guest flat until Sunday evening; I took her out to the local supermarket a couple of times, and helped her find things - communicating with sign language, and the few words of English that she knows, and some references to her English/German dictionary. Then I took her to church on Sunday morning.

This morning was the monthly meeting of the Larnaka Christian Writers' Association; rather than meeting in the home of the group founder, we met at the Craft and Hobby Centre in Ayia Eleni Street for a couple of hours, and then had lunch together. Good value sandwiches or salads, and excellent quality!

Tomorrow I help at the Toddler group run by one of the churches, and on Wednesday is the work lunch...

I really should remember how December seems to get full of meetings and gatherings, and get everything organised for Christmas before the end of November. But somehow, it never happens.