Early Morning Walking Resumed

It took me nearly a week to feel as if I'd recovered from returning to Cyprus. Not that I had any trouble adjusting to the two-hour time difference. And although I'd had a bit of a broken night before flying (continually waking in case I'd missed my alarm...) a couple of good nights' sleep easily made up for that.

Instead, I felt unutterably weary, my brain foggy, my actions slow. Partly it was returning to the heat, I'm sure; yet the humidity is down, less than it was in July before we left, and the temperatures are no more than 31-32C in the hottest part of the day. As I type, it's almost 6.00pm and a not-too-warm 28 outside. It will be dark in a little over an hour.  I had air conditioning on in my study earlier, when the temperature was a bit higher, but not now.

But partly it's something I've come to expect each time I return to Cyprus. Perhaps it's resuming responsibilities for looking after the house, and the cooking, and so on. Perhaps it's a kind of reaction to the end of an enjoyable holiday. Or perhaps it's the way I experience jet-lag, though it's odd that it only ever seems to happen when I'm back in Cyprus after a break.

Still, by Tuesday I'd decided I could manage an early-morning walk with my friend Sheila. It's mostly light by about 6.00am and a pleasantly cool 23C.  We exchanged text messages, and I put on some socks and my trainers, untouched for the past three months.

I grabbed my camera as I left, and took my first photo as we approached the entrance to the trail:

The Salt Lake, when we saw it, has completely dried up.

That doesn't happen every year, but we'd had no rain since at least May, and far less than the normal amount in the past year. There are strict water restrictions in place. Not that water gets turned off, as it did when we were first here. But heavy fines are being imposed for people who use hoses to wash their cars, or their patios/verandas, or the pavement outside the house.  Or rather....fines are imposed for people caught doing these things. First thing in the morning, and late at night, we've seen neighbours use their hoses, surreptitiously, to clean their outside areas anyway.

The lack of recent water shows in the general brownness of the sides of the trail:

We walked, as usual, to the aqueduct and then back to the opening. About two km in each direction. We weren't walking at all fast, but then neither of us has done much walking in the past few months.

On the way back, I was struck by this rather pretty display of purple flowers:

However, some long-forgotten memory of the basic horticultural education given me by my parents told me that it was bindweed. I don't know why I thought that, as the bindweed I vaguely remember from my childhood was white. I suppose there's something about the shape of the flowers.  And, as we looked more closely, we realised that this plant is wrapping itself around branches and even leaves of other plants.

Neither of us recall such a profusion of these purple flowers in previous years. But bindweed is insidious. I doubt if anyone will do anything about it. Most people will admire its beauty rather than worry about what it's doing.

There's a rather obvious spiritual lesson there, which I won't expound upon.

We walked again on Thursday.  Yesterday, there was some rain in the late afternoon. It wasn't heavy, but it was enough to make the whole street look wet. Inevitable, perhaps, as we were planning to barbecue with our friends in the evening - but happily the rain finished in plenty of time to do so.

It was nowhere near sufficient rain to make any different to the Salt Lake, but as I looked out of the window prior to walking this morning, I saw some clouds and wondered if there would be a pretty sunrise.  I was about to grab my camera when I remembered that my new-to-me phone had a built-in camera.

When the moment came that I wanted to take a photo, I wasn't entirely sure how to use the phone. But it wasn't difficult to find the camera icon and press the button on screen.

This afternoon I wondered how I would get the photo from my phone to my computer. Google searching suggested plugging them together via the charging wire, and installing an Android connection app on my computer.  I did that... but the app wouldn't recognise the phone. Perhaps it's too basic.

I looked at the photo, wondering if I could email it to myself, or download it, but there were no options to do so.

Finally, I opened Google Photos, wondering if I could put it there temporarily....

... and to my astonishment, the photo was already there. So I opened Google Photos on my computer, and was able to use it.  Not that it's great quality. It's nowhere near as sharp as my camera photos. I certainly won't be abandoning my camera any time soon.

But it gives a general idea of the colours in the sky; not as impressive as some we've seen in previous years, but still: my first phone photo:

Now that I've got used to using an on-screen keyboard, I don't miss my old phone at all.  I haven't yet worked out how to make phone calls on the smartphone... but I can send texts, and WhatsApp messages, and even quickly browse Facebook without having to switch my computer on.  Richard installed some more hard drive a few days ago - the tiniest hard drive I've ever seen - which means I'm not running out of space any more.

The weather forecast sites don't show any indication that the temperatures are going to drop in the next ten days; 30-32C remains the expected maximum temperature, 22-24C the expected overnight minimum. But with humidity no more than 50%, it's not unpleasant.

September usually marks the last month of summer in Cyprus. Perhaps in October it will cool down a little.

Rain and Bridge Repairs...

Shortly after my last post, Sheila and I were on our usual four kilometre walk to the aqueduct and back, only to find that we couldn't actually get to the aqueduct:

Well, we could perhaps have ducked under the tape and crossed the bridge (which had been getting more and more broken and rickety) but not being Cypriots we tend to follow what notices tell us (usually, anyway...).  So we went a little way along where the arrow sent us, but it just ended up at the main road:

So we walked back, and instead looked at the lake, which was looking quite a bit fuller after the first real rain of the year:

Unfortunately, although October usually signals the start of Autumn, the weather remained hot, and the sky mostly cloudless. It was even a bit humid sometimes. But then, a few days ago, I saw plenty of clouds in the sky, so took my camera with me in the hope of seeing a pretty sunrise.

I thought this one was very attractive, although a photo is a poor imitation:

The bridge was still out of action, and evidently some repair work had been started. The old wood was removed, although not very far, and new metal railings were in place.

They seem to have been painted alternately brown and light blue, which looks decidedly weird, but perhaps it's a bit of creative undercoat. The planks being put down to walk on look stronger than the old ones, too:

On Thursday evening, there was quite a thunderstorm and heavy rain. Friday was quite muggy, and then on Saturday there was a lot of rain. There was more this morning, and more predicted.

It's odd how often the last week of October is rainy here in Cyprus. It's usually the October half-term break in the UK, and families have often been disappointed that it's as wet here as it is back home, the only difference being that it's rather warmer in Cyprus. Temperatures are still 26-28C during the daytime, so although I wore long trousers today, for the first time since June, I still wore sandals, and nothing thicker than a tee shirt.

September, and another walk by the Salt Lake

Although we planned to go to the beach more often during July and August, we didn't manage it. Just once a week with our friends. On the last Friday of August, the moon was full and the temperature wasn't too high by the end of the evening. Photos of the moon are always disappointing but here's one attempt:

In fact we did go to the beach one more time, on the first Friday of September. The daytime isn't any cooler during September, at least not in the first couple of weeks; but the days are shorter, the humidity lower and the night temperatures drop down to 22-24C.

So I agreed to meet my friend Sheila for an early morning walk by the Salt Lake trail on September 1st, as it was a Tuesday. I woke shortly before 6.00am and we had our usual text message conversation. As I stepped out of the house, it was early dawn, and I was pleased that it felt pleasantly cool.

The sky was slightly pink as we approached the trail, and I was surprised at how green it was. There was a little rain (maybe five minutes) at the end of July, but other than that it's been dry, as usual, for at least two months, and there was very little rain during June.

The nearest part of the Salt Lake has dried up; it might look as if there's water in it, but the white is from the crust of salt that remains after the water has evaporated:

We've seen a few sunsets in clear skies, when at the beach during the Summer, but this was the first sunrise I had seen for a while:

Even the weeds were still growing, although the next picture is a bit dark. It wasn't just the bigger trees that were green:

There was a stark reminder of the fire that devastated quite a big area back in May:

And then, as we walked back from the aqueduct, we saw that there is still some water at the other end of the Salt Lake; you can see the reflections in the distance:

So I walked about five kilometres (including going to and from the trail) after a summer with very little exercise. I felt very unfit; we walked more slowly than usual, and my legs ached by the time I was home. They were even worse the following day!

However, I've walked a couple more times since then, and each time it's easier. I do enjoy the early morning walks, and saying 'kalimera' to various people who walk along the same paths at the same time each day... and am thankful that it's now cool enough to do this again.

We're supposed to be having a heatwave this week, so I hope it won't be too hot to walk. As I write, the sky is grey outside, but it's dust rather than cloud. It will probably be another few weeks before we get any rain.

Ethnic meals and growing kittens

Our guest flat has been well-occupied this year, with a mixture of friends (old and new) and friends-of-friends. We were very pleased to welcome back some relatively recent friends a few weeks ago, bringing a sister for the first time. They spent most of their week exploring the island in a rental car, but took us out for a wonderful Lebanese meal, near the sea-front, before they left:

I did not recognise most of the dishes, a surprising number of which were vegan, but they were all good and it was a most enjoyable evening out.

I've continued walking with my friend Sheila, three times per week. We've seen a few more sunrises:

Alexander the Great continues to wreak havoc on the house in his special way:

While Joan of Arc is - mostly - more peaceful: 

On another walk, we saw unusual cloud formations that looked almost like flying saucers coming over the horizon:

We were pleased to note, after a fairly heavy rainstorm, that there was at least a little water in the Salt Lake after a few dry months. We could tell by the reflections of the other side:

The weather has cooled sufficiently that I now go out in long trousers rather than shorts. Our walks have also been starting rather later, as the days become shorter... this morning it was almost 7.00am before we set out. However, the clocks go back tonight so next week it will be light by 6.00 again. At least for a few weeks.

Richard's birthday came and went... he didn't want to do anything much, but we did go out to eat at an Indian place along the Dhekelia Road: 

It's somewhat 'British Indian' in style, but nicely done, with delicious food.

Alex and Joan have realised that it's getting cooler... so now, rather than spreadeagling over the floor, they're more inclined to curl up together in the cat bed I made nearly a year ago:

Rain, the Salt Lake trail and Flamingoes

It was a very dry January in Cyprus. At least, it was until about a week ago. I continued my three-times-per-week walks with my friend Sheila, along part of the Salt Lake trail, and from time to time we commented on how empty the Salt Lake still seemed, with very few of the usual flamingoes. Here's a sunrise from a week ago, with quite a few clouds in the sky, although I had almost forgotten that clouds often precede rain...

Then on Sunday, it rained. Not heavily,  but quite a bit.

On Monday it rained too, in short but heavy bursts typical of this region. We could do with some of the steady drizzle I was more accustomed to when growing up, but that's all too rare here.

On Tuesday, we decided to brave the trail in the hope that it would not be too muddy. We had to avoid a few puddles:

But were walking along at our usual pace when we rounded a corner and saw this:

Had it been a dry week, we might have tried to get around the fallen tree, but everywhere was still very wet, so we turned around and went the other way. I'm quite glad we did, because we got to see some flamingoes:

If you click the image, it should take you to a larger version of the photo that shows them more clearly. I did try zooming in on another photo, but inevitably it's not as sharp - however I quite liked this group of seven flamingoes in a row, with their reflections in the water:

It rained again somewhat on Wednesday, hard enough that our roof leaked quite badly over the stairs, but briefly enough that the sun came out again and dried up most of the rain.  On Thursday's walk, the flamingoes were even more in evidence:

We think there were around two hundred to be seen. That might sound like quite a few, but a year ago they arrived much earlier, and we estimated that there were over two thousand VERY noisy flamingoes! 

The Salt Lake still seems quite empty compared to last year. There isn't a whole lot of snow in the mountains, either. We  hope this is not going to be another year with enforced water restrictions.

A week in the life....

Some of my Facebook friends aim to take (and post) a photo every day for a year, to chart the course of their lives. I thought it a great idea, but forgot to take any pictures on January 1st - so that put paid to that idea. I have my camera with me most of the time, but still often forget to pull it out of my bag.

Or perhaps there just aren't so many photographic moments. How many more sunrises can I capture, after all?

Well, maybe just this one, from Thursday:

I only walk along the trail three times each week; my friend Sheila goes out every morning, but she usually wakes earlier than I do. And the rest of the week, I like to have a few hours to myself. Tim gets up early three mornings a week when he has to be at work by 7.30am, but we're not very chatty first thing.

So I potter around, and clean the floors, and do laundry, and read, and chat to God, and squeeze oranges for our morning juice, and perhaps put something in the slow-cooker for our evening meal, or make more coconut milk... or whatever needs doing. There always seems to be something.

Sometimes I put the ingredients for a loaf of bread into the breadmaker, if we've run out of frozen slices from previous loaves, but this week Tim said he would bake a 'white bloomer' on his day at home. It turned out very well indeed:

At times I feel that I should be able to get things done more efficiently, but somehow it always takes me at least four hours from the time I wake up to the time I am out of the shower and looking respectable once more.

So how does a typical week look, once I've finished walking/chores/cooking/etc?

On Monday mornings I do our account and pay any bills (such as utilities) online. On Tuesdays, Sheila and her two youngest daughters come over so the little girls can play/colour pictures/listen to stories. And on Fridays, Richard and I try to work through a list of jobs outstanding for the house, or our life in general - and usually do some shopping.

A couple of days ago we finally got around to submitting our tax return, two weeks before the deadline. Richard extracted the information from our accounts package, and entered it online; meanwhile I dug out our financial records (statements, utility bills etc) from nine years ago and shredded them, and moved a more recent year's information to a box file to store. Then we went fruit and veg shopping. At some point we plan to do some repainting of parts of the house, but haven't yet got around to that.

In the afternoons (and Wednesday/Thursday mornings) I tend to write, or do other things at the computer: sometimes email, sometimes a book review or DVD review on the relevant blogs. I've been working on my home education site this week, changing broken links and adding in a few more; I've also fully updated and re-printed our family recipe folder, which I last did in 2010. I'm also doing other writing - for other blogs, bits of fiction, ideas that may come to nothing. It's been reasonably productive this week, spurred on by a group I'm part of which aims to write 1000 words per day for 100 days. I'm pretty much on track so far, which is encouraging.

I'm also trying, yet again, to learn a bit more Greek, although as ever it feels like one step forwards and two steps back. Nobody speaks Greek to me, as I'm so fair-skinned and obviously not Cypriot. Vocabulary is a stumbling block for most foreigners, unless they're married to a Cypriot, and as for the grammar... all I can say is that it's been simplified since the days of Ancient Greek (which I studied at school many decades ago). But it's still confusing and I'm not good with languages.

In between working, or attempting to work, I catch up on Facebook, or do the day's puzzles on a couple of different sites; relaxing and also (I hope) helping to stimulate my brain cells.

Around 5.30pm I do meal preparation, usually; I pull the curtains, and perhaps put away laundry or empty the dishwasher, and generally potter some more. We aim to eat about 6.30pm, and try to do something as a family at least three or four times a week - either a board game or a DVD. On Thursday this week Richard and I had been invited to some friends for a meal, which was very pleasant; on Fridays we all go to a low-key 'home group' with other friends.

This morning (Saturday) I went for a walk, then after general pottering and a bit of reading, I made some tomato and apple chutney, since we were on our last jar of the previous batch, made about a year ago, and I also made some more tomato ketchup as we had almost finished our last pot, made about four weeks ago. I was very pleased to have found a small crate of about 4kg tomatoes for a euro at the fruit stall yesterday, which makes them even better value.

Of course there are variations on the above themes. But this past week has been reasonably typical, as much as any week can be.. and, I hope, answers the question I'm asked, from time to time, 'So what do YOU do in Cyprus?'

Sunrises, shrubs and scrap along the Salt Lake trail...

It has been a pretty dry Autumn and early Winter in Cyprus. So although I do continue to walk about 5km with my friend Sheila three mornings per week, including the usual 4km along the Salt Lake trail, I wasn't taking many photos. The skies were clear and cloud-free, the sunrises unremarkable. The Salt Lake gathered a little water, but not much, and there was no sign of any flamingoes.

That is, until we had some very heavy rain a few days ago.

I took this early morning shot a couple of days ago; not the most stunning of the sunrises I have seen in the past couple of years, but prettier than in recent weeks. And showing rather more water in the Salt Lake than we had seen for a while:

A few minutes later I caught this, as the sun rose: 

Then, as we rounded a bend towards the end of the walk, we saw some flamingoes flying low over the Lake. I have no idea how they can tell that there's now sufficient water for them, or where they have been for the past month or so - but apparently they are back:

This morning was quite pretty too:

If, instead of looking into the sky and at the lake, we take note of the foliage, there are some quite pretty plants along the trail, like this: 

Or this:

Actually, I took those photos in November, but didn't get around to writing much then. 

Less attractive is the rubbish, abandoned, such as this child's toy:

I took that photo six weeks ago, too, but it's still there. Damaged by sun and rain, somewhat overgrown with new foliage... but still just lying there. 

Here's another example of the scrapheap side of the Salt Lake trail:

And this: 

And this:

Not that I really notice them most of the time. Sheila and I are usually deep in conversation about a wide range of topics; sometimes I don't really notice anything at all of our surroundings. The walk has become auto-pilot, the scenery no longer so stunning. And I don't notice the rubbish either, unless there's something new that stands out. Or unless I decide, specifically, to take photos! 

But I'm glad we're seeing pretty sunrises again. 

Sunrise... and moonset?

When I started walking along the Salt Lake trail last year, I knew I might get a bit fitter and hoped I would enjoy the exercise and spending time with my friend Sheila. What I didn't expect was to see some awesome sunrises. I have posted many photos on this blog, but can't resist trying to capture more of them, even when there aren't many clouds in the sky.

Recently I caught the sun just as it was about to come over the horizon; the time, according to the camera, was 6.55 am: 

We could almost see the sun moving (or, as Linus van Pelt would have put it, the earth turning...) so that just five minutes later, it was totally visible:

(Not, I hasten to add, that I stared at it. The display at the back of a digital camera makes it so much easier to take direct photos into the sun).

Today there was a huge moon, which was gloriously visible from the trail. Not that it looks anywhere near so large in a photo, but here it is at 6.44am: 

Of course the moon was going down rather than up -and it occurred to me to wonder if we ever talk about moonrise and moonset. I haven't heard the words, but am not sure why.  

Five minutes later, and the sky was pink, the moon about to vanish over the horizon: 

More early morning sunrise photos...

So, now I've started walking again three times per week with my friend Sheila, there are lots more sunrises to capture with my camera and attempt to display to the rest of the world who prefer to sleep as the sun makes its way over the horizon.

We saw this last week, while returning from the aqueduct:

Not yet as pretty as sunrises with cloud formations but still, rather stunning.

That morning, I agreed to do the other 'half' of the walk - to the Airport Road and back.  The Salt Lake is completely dry this year, although sometimes the light makes it look as though there were water in it. It's just dried up salt, however:

Of course, each day the sunrise gets a few minutes later, so setting off at six means that it's now fairly dark for the first few minutes.  Not actually as dark as this photo suggests: Sheila pointed out the full moon, low on the horizon, so I attempted to take a picture:

It never works. I should know by now. But I thought the effect of the moon overhead and the car lights along the road was quite interesting, nonetheless.

The sky was actually more like this at the time, with streaks of sunlight beginning to show: