More random Larnaka images for the end of March

 For anyone who thinks Cyprus is all sunshine and warmth... this is a screenshot from March 21st, on a morning when my friend Sheila and I decided that we would not be going out for our usual 5km walk...

According to local news reports, it has been an exceptionally wet March.  It has certainly felt that way. It's a good thing, as the reservoirs are now in a much better state than they were at the start of the year, although we're still told to conserve water, and I believe the hosepipe ban is continuing. 

Random images around Larnaka

 I'm trying to post on this blog more often, and on one topic - or no more than two or three - at a time. But sometimes there are random things where there's not a lot to say... so here is a small selection of my most recent collection of local photos that don't fit other subjects, taken over the last month or so.

We were given a small papaya plant several years ago, and this is the first year that it has produced flowers:

We have no idea whether it will eventually produce a fruit; that depends on the flowers being fertilised, and whether it's a male or female plant.  The flowers aren't spectacular, but there are a lot of buds.

Signs of new life along the Salt Lake trail

With over six months' worth of drought, from the end of April until the middle of November, the scrubland along the Salt Lake trail was looking very dry. Some plants survive the summer - they have done so, probably, for centuries, acclimatised to the heat, gaining their moisture from the air, or from deep in the ground. But the ground was brown and bare. 

Two weeks later, after two major rainstorms, there are signs of new life alongside the trail. 

This is something I still intuitively associate with spring, despite twenty-three years living in Cyprus. We did, after about ten years, learn to buy bedding plants at the start of November, rather than April or May. Petunias, busy lizzies and similar flowers are blooming now, and should continue to brighten the winter months until they die off when the heat appears again around June. 

So it really shouldn't surprise me that seeds sprout and grass appears as soon as the rain does. 

Looking closely, though, there appear to be two different kinds of grass.  One, coarse and irregular, is set back a bit from the trail.  But there also looks like much finer grass sprouting more closely to the edge.  

I don't recall it happening like this before. Or not so suddenly, anyway. It seems unlikely that someone would have sown grass seed, although that's what it looks like. Maybe it's happening so rapidly because this year the onset of rain has coincided with the temperature reducing somewhat, making an ideal environment for the grass to grow. 

Special spring days in Cyprus

There seem to be a lot of public holidays in Cyprus, many of which feature parades, with chosen school students and Scouting groups marching around the town. In past years, when our older son was in the Municipal Band, we used to go and watch; but one parade is much like another. With no special person to watch, the parades held little interest after we had seen a few.

Greek Independence Day
There are two national days celebrated in Cyprus, exactly a week apart. The first is Greek Independence Day, on March 25th.  It's related to the Greeks rising up against the occupying Ottoman empire back in the 1800s, but also, a little confusingly, is connected with the Feast of the Anunciation, nine months before Christmas.

Bunting is put up in the streets, and roads are cleared on the day so that the parades can take place.

Whereas Greek Independence Day is a public holiday if it occurs on a weekday, there's no extra day in lieu if, as happened this year, it falls at the weekend.

Clock-changing Day
March 25th was also the date when clocks had to be put forward for summer time, or daylight savings, or whatever other variation you call it. I very much like the 'spring forward' change. The evenings are lighter - it's now not dark until well past 7.00pm - and it's still pleasantly cool for walking with my friend Sheila at 7.00am.  Ideally we start out half an hour earlier than that, but the disadvantage of the clock change is that I wake later for at least a week or two.

Mothering Sunday
Not to be confused with US 'Mother's Day', Mothering Sunday is always three weeks before Easter. So this year it fell on March 26th. The origins are uncertain, although I gather it existed before the Reformation. In the 19th century it seems to have been the day when girls 'in service' in the UK were able to go home to their 'mother church' - and, I assume, their families - before the busy Easter period.

However, in the middle of the 20th century it became popular as a day to give cards or flowers to mothers. It's not something that was part of my culture growing up; my mother didn't like it, and it was nowhere near such a big thing as it is now.

When my sons were small they made cards or crafts of some kind at school. But then we moved to Cyprus when they were 9 and 11. It's not celebrated here (although Cyprus has a low-key variation of Mother's Day early in May) and none of us ever remembered it. Sometimes there would be a mention at a church service; occasionally flowers were given, or crafts made in Sunday school.

I went to the local Anglican church this year, forgetting that it was Mothering Sunday. Little posies were given to everyone in the congregation - men as well as women - so I was happy to put this in water when I arrived home:

A couple of hours later, a knock at the front door revealed my friend Sheila's 17-year-old son, with a bouquet, from my son Tim in the UK:

I was overwhelmed!  Tim is now a teacher, at a school where Mothering Sunday is mentioned regularly, so he said that helped him to remember.

Jam-making Day
Three days later I went out to the fruit shop, and popped over to look at the connected stall, where they sell large crates of fruit or vegetables at excellent prices. The big crates are far more than we can use, but they often have excess produce, or items past their best (or at the peak of ripeness) for just a euro or two.

I spotted some strawberries; in the fruit shop itself they're about €1.50 for 500g, and I'd bought a couple of punnets a few weeks earlier.  A small crate, which looked as if it had at least a couple of kilogrammes in it, was €4. I bought them, and was pleased to discover, on weighing them, that there were three and a half kg in all.  Excellent value.  They were perfectly ripe, and I knew wouldn't keep much longer, so Wednesday, unexpectedly, was my strawberry jam-making day:

A little over 2kg went into making eight jars of jam, and I pureed and froze most of the rest, keeping a few to eat.

Wednesday was also the day that the UK Prime Minister formally triggered the 'Brexit' process. I was surprised how very sad it made me feel; we knew it was coming, after all, although I had temporarily forgotten while making jam. Nobody knows what agreements will happen, if any, or how things will work out for Brits abroad, and other Europeans in the UK. All we can do is wait and see, hoping and praying that something positive might emerge.

Cyprus National Day
Much of the world knows April 1st as April Fool's Day, and indeed there were pranks on Facebook, and on some of the news websites. It's a bit difficult to know what's true these days anyway; so many sites offer 'fake' news, or exaggerations, or speculations which may never happen. And some news stories which are genuine are quite bizarre.

However, April 1st is another public holiday in Cyprus, exactly a week after Greek Independence Day. It celebrates the start of the uprising of the Cypriots against the occupying British, back in 1955. When we used to watch our son marching with the band, we would sometimes be asked by locals if we knew what the day was about. They thought it a bit odd that we would be out there watching!

Kittens' Birthday
And finally, April 4th. Until three years ago, I only knew this as my brother-in-law's birthday; indeed, I didn't take much notice of the date when Sheila's cat Conny gave birth to kittens back in 2014.  But four months later we adopted Alexander the Great and Joan of Arc, and Tim, who was living in Cyprus at the time, adopted Lady Jane Grey. Sadly we lost Joan a little over a year ago, but then we adopted Jane when Tim moved back to the UK.

At first Jane was terrified and we wondered if the two would ever get along, but now, at the mature age of three (and really no longer kittens, but we still think of them that way) they get along very well:

Annual post about the approach of Summer

Every year, I am convinced that Summer in Cyprus will be here with a vengeance by the start of June. I have memories of 'holding out' until the end of May before using our air conditioners at night. I'm not entirely sure why I have this impression; last year at the end of June I wrote that Summer had arrived only ten days earlier. In 2012, too, we didn't clean our air conditioners until the start of June, and Summer was a week or two away. As had happened, apparently, in 2011 as well.

Nevertheless, I've very much appreciated relative coolness during May and the first third of June. I don't think the daytime temperature has risen above about 28C and some days it's still a comfortable 24-25. Certainly not hot enough for air conditioning, and without any humidity, at least so far.

I'm still walking three times a week with my friend Sheila, setting out about 5.45am usually, or a little later, and not attempting more than 4km of the trail. On Tuesday I noticed some attractive summer flowers so I took my camera with me this morning. There was some white bougainvillea:

This pink shrub, which I've noted before: 

And this rather stunning yellow plant, which my little camera can't really capture: 

Unsurprisingly, the Salt Lake is rapidly emptying; it's been quite dry this year and the reservoirs are nowhere near as full as they were last year. 

Richard and I are flying to the UK at the end of next week to see our family and meet our new grandson, so I'm now wondering if we'll manage to escape the start of summer entirely.  The forecast is for slightly hotter weather next week - maybe 28C in the shade - but no more.

Having said that, I switched to wearing shorts rather than jeans a couple of weeks ago, and abandoned any jacket or sweatshirt, however light. We're using fans at night, and also ceiling fans (somewhat) during the day. But we still have a light duvet on the bed, and I haven't felt any urge to switch on the air conditioners, even though we did the annual cleaning a couple of weeks ago.

Wildflowers at the end of February in Cyprus

Despite my friend Sheila being away for a few weeks, I've managed to go for early morning walks a few times. This week, the weather has been glorious - wall-to-wall sunshine, and daytime temperatures up to 22-23C in the shade. However, first thing in the morning it's still only about 10-12C, which is ideal for a brisk walk in the fresh air.

On Tuesday I was feeling a bit tired, so decided to take it slowly, and enjoy the scenery. This winter has been so mild that the wildflowers seem to be rather ahead of where they usually are. It's March when everywhere seems t turn yellow, but there are distinct hints of it already:

I don't know what most of the flowers are called. I'm not sure I even care - the names are usually long and undescriptive. I prefer to enjoy the beauty and colour, as they grow in proliferation in this relatively untouched environment.

These small photos don't really show much detail, but if you click any of them, a larger one should appear. There were these white flowers, with yellow ones in front:

A big bush of this yellow one, which some vague memory of the past tells me might be (of all dull and undescriptive names, one the most uninspiring) broom:

There were single pale purple plants in random places amongst the greenery, rather hard to capture on camera: 

And thousands of buds: these yellow wildflowers, which I think are glorious, just waiting to open: 

Here are some more of them at the base of a tree:

A bit of sunshine caught yet more yellow plants growing by the side of the path: 

And I liked these pale pinkish ones, standing strongly, on stalks that look as if they would not stay upright for long: 

As I walked, stopping every so often to take pictures, a line of a hymn popped into my mind:

When through the woods and forest glades I wander,

And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.... 

At that precise moment, perhaps triggered by my subconscious, I became aware that there were, indeed, birds singing. The flamingoes have not made any noise during my last few walks - there haven't even been many of them around, and I wouldn't call their chatter 'sweet'. But somehow, I had not really thought about  other birds, evidently building their nests or bringing up their babies in the trees.

Then sings my soul, my Saviour, God, to thee:

How great thou art, how great thou art!

Ten days into February....

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I liked the reflection when we got a bit closer: 

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

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

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

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

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

After the rain....

I wrote yesterday about the thunder and rain, which was really the first good rain for quite some time.  A bit came through the roof over the stairs, but by the time I went to bed the rain had stopped and the little puddles had almost disappeared. 

However, in the night it started raining again, quite heavily.  It had stopped by the time I got up this morning, but by around 7.00am when I was just thinking about walking down to the PO Box, it started again:

There was some blue in the sky so I was hopeful that this would not last too long; and, indeed, about twenty minutes later the sun came out.  

As I stepped out into the wet world that greeted me, I was struck again at how very clean everything looks after it's had a good downpour.  There always seem to be flowers blooming somewhere, and I snapped a few such as this one:

And this one, which I believe is called a bottle-brush plant: 

Some of the raindrops can still be seen on the leaves of this one, if you click to enlarge the photo:

This one, too, with vivid yellow blooms, looked very pretty sparkling with raindrops in the sun: 

There were puddles on waste ground, which will no doubt provide more breeding place for mosquitoes:

Some puddles in the streets, too... but I didn't see any really flooded roads.  Perhaps the new drainage system is beginning to be of use even if it isn't all connected: 

It would be nice if the roads could be re-surfaced after their extensive excavations, but perhaps that's too much to ask. 

Shortly after I arrived home, the rain started lightly again. Then around noon, there was some torrential pouring, making me glad that Richard had put the usual bucket and cool-box on our stairs to catch some of the leaks: 

We always need rain in Cyprus, so I hope this has gone some way to filling up the reservoirs again.  More is predicted tonight, and tomorrow.  Autumn has well and truly begun. 

Spring, we hope, is finally here in Cyprus

It has been the longest, coolest winter I can remember since moving to Cyprus over fourteen years ago. 

Of course, we expect a few days of chilly temperatures during January and February, and a bit of rain, off and on.  But this year we had two months where it was, almost continually, cold. 

I should perhaps qualify for those coming from countries where severe frosts, and perhaps ice and snow are common during the winter. It was never THAT cold in Cyprus (other than in the mountains).  I don't think the night-time temperature dropped below about 3C, and the daytime temperature was usually at least 8C. We had some sunshine too, in between some of the showers. 

But in a country with tiled floors, windows that don't always fit well, and not much central heating, it felt cold. Very cold. I wore at least three warm layers all day long. We used our extra-thick doubled duvet for much longer than we usually do. We've used a great deal more gas (for our central heating) than ever before.  There were a couple of days at the end of February when it seemed to warm up a little, only to have yet more rain and cold nights at the start of March.

We need the rain in Cyprus, of course. The reservoirs in Paphos are now full, which is great; the country should at least be well-supplied with water for 2012. And I do like the cold more than the heat of summer. 

Still, it's nice to have some more reliable sunshine, and to find that we can leave doors and windows open without the entire house feeling like a fridge. A couple of weeks ago, we finally got around to buying some bedding plants to replace the ones that withered away with the heat last summer.  I particularly like purple petunias:

Antirrhinums usually do well too, so I bought one for the planter outside our front door, and a couple of other rather pretty plants... unfortunately, I'd forgotten that local cats (including ours, sometimes) tend to sit in this planter so the plants already look a little squashed: 

It wasn't really until March 20th (the first official day of spring) that we started to feel some real warmth. I've only been wearing one warm layer for a couple of days now, with an extra one for the evening. Today when I popped out to the local supermarket, I saw some rather attractive orange flowers: 

The wildflowers are blooming everywhere too, giving the typical 'yellow' appearance to fields and waste ground:

And these:

And these, which are my favourites: 

I noticed a fine display of nasturtiums too: 

It would be wonderful if these spring-like temperatures could remain for a few months, before we have to shut all the doors and windows again just to keep the house a little cooler during the summer....

Blooming Cyprus...

No, not a complaint about Cyprus at all. Rather the reverse.

When one lives in the same place, particularly when one is not an adventurous soul, nor even particularly active, one tends to tread the same paths, and become almost unaware of one's surroundings. I have my regular walks to the Froutaria, and the local small supermarket; I have less frequent walks in the direction of St Helena's Church, or into town for the Post Office, or Larnaka Community Church. We walk to local friends' houses, too. But those routes are not particularly picturesque, and any changes are only gradual... so, after nearly five years in this house, I tend not to notice my surroundings any more.

Around noon today I realised I should probably pop out and buy some milk. The bakeries are open on Sundays, but their prices are rather higher than that of the supermarkets - and since I didn't go out at all yesterday, I thought I might just stretch my legs... then, as I left the house, I had a hankering for a slightly longer walk. I remembered that I hadn't been to the Thrift Store for a few months. I don't enjoy shopping, but I do like popping into second-hand places now and again...

So, instead of turning left, I turned right and headed towards the Thrift Store. And was struck, immediately, by the amount of green everywhere - it's rained quite a bit recently - and, even more, the vibrant colours. March, I remembered, is 'yellow month' - or so they used to say. I've written about that before. I had my camera with me, and whipped it out to take a shot of my favourite kind of weeds, which are blooming just about everywhere at present:


With so much rain, everything looks cleaner than usual, too.

I take the citrus trees for granted after over thirteen years in Cyprus, but I love the scent of blossom.. which, oddly enough, is present at the same time as fruit:


It wasn't just yellows that struck me. The route I was walking had several front gardens (yards), some of which hosted a gorgeous display of flowers. Hard to do them justice, of course:


Then I was struck (not, thankfully, literally) by this huge cactus which appears to have some kind of blossoming too:


I saw some mespila (loquat) trees, still green but with the promise of fruit in another month or so:


They made me feel almost nostalgic for our old garden, which sported two of them.. until I remembered what a pain it was removing the large stones, leaving a relatively small amount of flesh, in order to make jam that I didn't even like that much.

I saw this bush - yellow with tinges of pink. I don't even like pink much, but it's a very spring-like colour, and I thought the effect rather pretty:


Most surprising of all was this tree, covered with bright pink blossom:


It looked almost like an English tree. We were used to the white almond blossom at our old house - our neighbours had some almond trees, but they bloomed rather earlier than this. I'm not sure I remember seeing such amazing blossom in Cyprus before.

I put my camera away when I reached the Thrift Store, and browsed around for ten minutes or so. I found a couple of books I liked - one simply can't have too many, and they're only 50c each - but nothing else. Then I continued up the road, seeing and marvelling at more gorgeous trees and flowers, enjoying them for the moment rather than capturing on my camera. I knew that my photos - even enhanced on the computer - could not begin to do justice to the glorious, abundant works of art all around me.

I wondered, too, how anyone can see such amazing evidence of the Master Artist at work, yet still believe that such beauty came into being entirely by chance...

(Oh, and I did eventually get full circle to Orhpanides Express, and bought my milk).