Lefkara visit (Pano and Kato)

 When we first moved to Cyprus, we regularly took visitors to see the village of Lefkara - or, rather, Pano Lefkara, as it's officially called; Upper Lefkara, as we might say in English. It was a quiet village, a little way into the mountains, which specialised in what they called Lefkara lace. I wouldn't have called it lace myself, but it's certainly highly skilled, beautiful work - in tablecloths, cushion covers and more.

I wrote about some of our visits, including a few photos, in - for instance - this post, in 2006, and this one in 2007. At the time we wondered how long it would stay viable. There weren't many visitors, and every shop was full of Lefkara lace products which had taken many months to make. The prices were high - not unreasonably so for the amount of work, but much higher than we or most of our friends were prepared to pay. The shop owners were friendly, offering us refreshment, 'no obligation', and then pleading with us to buy something. We learned to resist; we were pretty sure we weren't really the first visitors of the year, or that nobody had bought anything that season. 

Sometimes Richard would take visitors while I stayed at home, to enjoy some peace and quiet. But I went again in 2009 when I was saddened to see that many of the shops had closed. And those that were still open had a higher percentage of other products - machine-made tablecloths and much more, which the shopkeepers rather despised. But they had to make a living somehow.

Kalavassos tenta and Choirokoitia village

 Now that we're both officially pensioners, and Richard is semi-retired, we decided we should have days out now and again. This is to ensure we stay away from our computers and get some fresh air, and also to see some parts of Cyprus that we hadn't previously explored. We compiled an initial list of places not too far from Larnaka that we would like to visit - or, in some cases, re-visit. 

Our first such outing was last Friday. Our intention was to visit a location we had seen fairly often from the highway, but had never actually been to. The 'tent' (or 'tenta') at Kalavassos. Maybe forty minutes' drive from our house. It was a nice day, if rather warmer than I like, and our car has pretty good air conditioning.

Our pronunciation of Greek is not great, but we usually manage to get the emphasis correct. So we knew we were heading for somewhere pronounced something like 'kalla-VASS-os'. Short 'a' sounds, emphasis on the third syllable.  We were mildly amused that Google Maps told us we were going to 'kuh-LAH-vuh-suss', with emphasis on the second syllable and something that sounded like 'lava' in the middle. 

This is what the 'tenta' looks like from the place where we parked:

Third week of August in Cyprus

More than half way through August already, another week gets going...

Sunday 16th

Sunday morning I woke around six thirty. It was a tad cooler than it had been. So once again I walked to the Salt Lake park, and explored a bit more than I did last week. I won't go into detail, as I wrote an entire extra post about the upgraded Salt Lake (or Pattichio) park. But here's one photo I took, showing the nature garden, and the steps to the bridge:

By the time I got home, it was getting hot and humid. Another morning in the air conditioning, where I watched some of the church livestream. We'd decided to get a rotisserie chicken from Metro for lunch again, along with various leftovers from the previous week; I knew it would last us at least three meals. We had quite a lot of new potatoes left over, so I sliced and refried them, along with some onions. We ate about half of those. 

Pattichio (Salt Lake) Park upgrade

 Back in February, I wrote this post about ongoing construction in the Salt Lake (Pattichio) Park. It all seemed to be happening slowly and somewhat randomly. By the middle of June, when I stopped going for walks along the Salt Lake trail until the weather cools down, it hadn't progressed all that much. 

So I was amazed to see this article about the Pattichio Park come up in my Facebook feed last week. I decided to go and see what was going on - it was hard to believe that in just a couple of months the upgrade really was complete, but that's what the article said. I mentioned this in the Wednesday part of last week's general rambling update, with a couple of photos. But I didn't stray from the main path, as it was so very hot and humid.

Yesterday morning, however, the temperature was a tad cooler, and not quite so sticky. So I decided to be a bit more adventurous. I walked to the park, then wandered up the first trail I came to:

 
It led to the dog park. This is quite a nice looking area that's fenced off, with plenty of bins for dog mess, to allow dogs to run around rather than having to be on a lead/leash all the time.

Two weeks out of Cyprus

 Earlier in the year, we had talked about the possibility of flying to the UK early in April, so that we could see Richard's mother on her birthday. She's living in a very nice care home now, in Sussex and they make quite a thing of birthdays. 

We then pondered going first to Carlisle, to spend Easter with our older son and his family. We checked with them that they weren't going anywhere else, and we started idly looking for flights.

Then I spotted flights from Larnaka to Glasgow on March 31st at just 27 pounds per person. It was with EasyJet: a budget airline that we have used many times, and which we generally like.  That price doesn't include any luggage, of course, other than an under-seat bag. We tend to upgrade to what they call 'easy boarding' which gives us an overhead carry-on as well, but even so - the price was excellent. 

We know from experience that prices vary all the time, and can be extremely high over the Easter period, so we booked at once. Then we filled in the details - a rental car, accommodation when not staying with the family etc - and finally booked a flight back on April 15th. 

We were all packed and ready at least half an hour before our friend Sheila came to pick us up to take us to the airport on March 31st. 

The flight wasn't until after 9.30pm, which is when I usually like to be getting ready for bed.  So I was delighted to realise that it was an almost-empty flight. This meant that once we had taken off, we could have three seats each, and lie down to rest. I didn't get a lot of sleep, but I think at least a couple of hours.  So when we arrived at Glasgow in the early hours, I wasn't as tired as I might have been.

November remains warm in Cyprus...

 I wrote, in my previous post, about the weather cooling slightly at the end of October.  I assumed that the temperature would continue dropping, with - as so often happens - quite a sharp drop by the middle of November. 

I was mistaken. I should not make assumptions. 

I took a screenshot of the weather forecast on November 5th, when the daytime temperature was still 29 degrees - more like early October than early November.  I was quite excited to see a prediction of rain for a week ahead, and that the night-time temperatures would be dropping as low as 15. But no sign of the usual chilly weather by the middle of the month. 

The end of summer... perhaps?

 When we lived in the UK, my least favourite month of the year was November. After the clock change at the end of October, the evenings were dark early, and it seemed to me that the daytimes were often grey and dreary too. November sometimes dragged on and on...

That's rather how I feel about September in Cyprus, although for rather different reasons. Somehow, with schools starting a new year, and shorter days, I feel as if it should be cooler. September is an autumn month, and despite nearly twenty-eight years in Cyprus, it feels wrong that September here is still an extension of summer. 

I don't like hot weather. I am often out of Cyprus for some or all of August - as happened this year so I miss the worst of the heat and humidity. When I arrived back at the start of the last week of August, it wasn't as hot as I expected, nor as humid. We were using air conditioning with our computers, and for an hour or two at night. I thought perhaps I'd escaped the worst of it. 

Then September started, and the humidity returned. There weren't any heatwaves - and on September 3rd I resumed early morning walks with my friend Sheila. I took it slowly; I didn't manage the full 4km the first couple of times, and had to take a couple of breaks to sit down. But it was nice to be out. The Salt Lake was completely dry after over three months with no rain.

Out of Cyprus in August

At the start of July, I wrote a longish post about preparing for summer in Cyprus. And that's the routine I followed, more-or-less, during July. I finished our 2024 photobook and had it sent to our elder son's home. I went out for a short walk early most mornings, around the block or to the local shop. And we ate different combinations of salad dishes as our main meal most days. 

We celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary in a fairly low-key way. It was too hot and humid to eat out anywhere, so we ordered food from our favourite Lebanese restaurant. It's theoretically a meze for two. It lasted us nearly three days.

On July 28th we finished all our leftovers, cleaned the fridge, packed our cases... and in the evening, our friend Sheila drove us to the airport for a break in the UK.

Another week over...

 Wasn't New Year just a few days ago...? How can it be nearly half-way through January already? Time has a way of racing past, faster and faster and I really don't know where the last week has gone.

Part of that, I acknowledge, is that I've had quite a bad cold. Which I'll come to later... 

On Friday January 5th, we went for a walk along the sea-front to check our PO Box. And there, as so often happens at this time of year, we found ELEVEN Christmas cards. All from the UK, posted on different dates between the 5th and 17th December. 

So much for official 'last posting dates'. It all seems quite random. 

That nearly doubled the number of cards we received for the 2023 Christmas season, so I put them up along with those we had already received:

 

We do appreciate the cards that arrive. If you happen to be reading this and are one of the people who still sends us a card each year, then thank you very much. But we have been rather shocked at the amount of postage necessary to send a card to Cyprus from the UK. So please don't feel that you must! Electronic greetings are also welcome. It's rather sad that, even if folk post cards early in December, they can take a month to arrive. This is why I always keep the latest cards in an envelope along with our tree and decorations, and put them up the following year. 

So these, which we displayed right through December, are actually the cards we were sent for Christmas 2022 (many of which didn't arrive until early or even mid-January 2023)

The traditional times for taking down Christmas decorations range from January 5th (Twelfth Night) through to Candlemas (February 2nd). But having had ours up since December 1st, I felt that it was time to take them down on January 5th... so we made sure the knitted wise men arrived at the manger even though it was a day earlier than Epiphany:

In the evening, Richard helped me take everything down, and packed it away much more neatly and efficiently than I can manage when I'm doing the un-decorating alone.

And so, that was Christmas. 

Winding back a few hours, on that same Friday, which felt like a very long day, one way and another, I went to hang out the laundry I had done in the morning, only to find it still rather wet. I put it on to spin again, and nothing happened. Well, the washing machine made a lot of noise, but the drum did not turn at all. 

Uh-oh.

The washing machine, which was eight and a half years old, had been playing up for many months: I could no longer select the programme I used the most, and had to use a different one. Sometimes it was hard even to find that. We wondered about seeing if it could be fixed, but thought it (a) unlikely and (b) probably expensive. 

With a second major thing not working, we realised the time had come to buy a new washing machine.  Our previous one lasted nine years, and ended dramatically by boil-washing some clothes that never really recovered. Eight-and-a-half isn't significantly less. And whereas we were happy to buy a used (and probably elderly) steamer at the thrift store, just a day earlier, we didn't even look for a second-hand washing machine.  A steamer might be used ten or twelve times in a year, and we can manage quite well without it if we have to. A washing machine is used at least 150 times a year, with just the two of us, and I would find it extremely difficult to cope without it. 

So we went out to our favourite local white goods store, George Theodorou, after perusing their website, and ordered a new machine. To be delivered on Monday. And while many things have become more expensive in the past decade, I was slightly surprised to realise that our new washing machine was forty euros cheaper than the one we bought in 2015. And it comes with a five-year guarantee.

Our washing machine is located on an outside utility balcony, inside a biggish metal cupboard.  It works well; it's right by the washing lines, and it's not taking up space in the kitchen. 

But also in the cupboard, next to the machine, we tend to accumulate things like old cardboard boxes, ends of cans of paint - particularly when they're still in use - and unused cat litter trays. I also had a large bag of polystyrene beads for beanbags. At one point we had four beanbags, but one of them was damaged by one of the cats, and we didn't really think we needed four.. so I rescued the filling, and thought it would be useful for topping up the three remaining beanbags. The fillings tend to get squashed, so the bags become less comfortable with time.

It was, I think, a good idea. But I did that probably five or six years ago, and had not done any topping up. I also hadn't realised that the large bin bag in which I put the spare beads was a biodegradable one. And it started to biodegrade. I had noticed a few beans leaking out but hadn't done anything about it... and the slight leak, just a week or two earlier, had turned into a major cascade...

I might have left this for weeks, even months longer, although a high wind could have caused beans to go flying all over the place. But knowing that a new washing machine was coming on Monday was an excellent motivator. So on Sunday I set to work with a jug and a new bin liner... 

Richard helped, and between us we managed to tidy up the inside of the cupboard effectively, getting rid of some almost empty (and dried up) paint containers, and throwing out some of the beans which had become very grubby. 

On Monday the new washing machine was delivered and installed, and the old one taken away. I hadn't realised that the door was so dark, I couldn't see the laundry going around inside. But I guess it doesn't matter. 

The programme names seem a bit random; I've tried three different ones so far, and they all work well. The cycles are rather quicker than those on the previous machine, which is a plus point. 

On Thursday, when I went out for a walk with Sheila first thing, the flamingoes were right on the shore. It had rained a bit, and evidently there were plenty of fresh little pink shrimp by the shore. 

We can't get too close, or they become frightened, and my phone zoom isn't great - but I was quite pleased with this picture. 

2023 broke all the records for warmth, at least in Cyprus, and December was no exception. As I said in a previous post, I don't think the overnight temperatures dropped below ten degrees (Celcius, of course) and the daytimes were mostly 20-23 in the shade. 

Early January remained warm, too. But on Friday, for the first time, my phone showed slightly cooler temperatures when I got up:

And, indeed, it rained - not much on Friday afternoon, but today has been very grey, with rain more than once. A report in the Cyprus Mail said that snow is falling in Troodos. 

Perhaps winter is, at last, arriving. 

Oh, and my cold...

I had a slight sniffle on Monday that barely affected me. I walked with Sheila as usual first thing on Tuesday, but felt exhausted when I got home and very 'coldy' for the rest of the day. It was  really quite bad on Wednesday, then started to improve. It's pretty much gone by now. I didn't test for Covid; mainly because most of our remaining free testing kits have dried up entirely. But I checked several sites to see if there were any clear differences. I was sneezing a lot (common with colds, very uncommon with Covid). However I didn't have a headache, other than slight pressure around my sinuses on Wednesday (headaches are very common with Covid), nor did I have any aches and pains anywhere else. I was a bit tired, but not in a debilitating way. And my coughs were productive.

All of which is probably far more information than anyone reading this cares to read, so I'll end here. 

April, and restrictions ease in Cyprus

So it's over two years since the pandemic started. Case numbers are still fairly high in Cyprus, given that the population is not much more than a million. But restrictions are easing, as they have in many other Western countries in the past couple of months. We still have to wear masks in shops and other indoor public spaces, but safe passes haven't had to be shown in supermarkets or other grocery shops for a couple of weeks, and as of Monday they won't need to be shown anywhere. 

I mentioned in my last post that March had turned chilly, as often happens during the first week of March. I didn't expect that it would continue to be decidedly on the cool side for Cyprus. We've had to have our gas tank refilled at least three times this winter - it was only once a year ago. The central heating was coming on, if only for half an hour or so, every day until the end of the month. 

We realised how unusual that was the day after the clocks went forward (the last Sunday of March); we didn't change the central heating timer clock, and realised it had not previously occurred to us that we might need to. Never before has the heating come on during the daylight savings/summer time period.

I was still wearing several layers of clothes, using a microwave wheat bag every night, and still using our double thickness of duvet (13 togs and 4.5 togs together). Although I change the sheets and pillowcases every week, I only change the duvet cover once a fortnight - and both times, during March, I pondered whether to move to just the 13 tog duvet, and quickly decided against it. It's only in the past week that it started to feel over-warm, and today I put away the 4.5 tog duvet. At some point we'll have a couple of weeks when we just need that, then I'll wash them both and pack them away for the summer.

So it was no surprise to learn that March was the coldest ever for Larnaka (and other parts of the island). 

I took very few photos. I didn't even take one of yellow foliage - perhaps it took longer to appear. I did take this photo, however, which is mostly yellow, about four weeks ago:

A crate of lemons, brought to us by a friend who had been employed to cut down an old lemon tree that was growing too close to someone's house. That wasn't all of them - we took maybe 25% of the lemons we were offered.  I don't know how many kilograms there were, but I spent a fair bit of time grating skin to freeze zest, juicing them - to freeze, or use.  

I've frozen two biggish boxes of lemon 'cubes' to use when I need just a tablespoon of the juice in the months when lemons are more difficult to get hold of, and several small boxes with 100ml each of lemon juice to use in various recipes that need more than a tablespoon. I've also frozen a couple of boxes of lemon slices, to use in water, or on salmon.  And during many of those chilly evenings we drank hot lemon and honey. 

I had to throw out maybe three or four that started to go mouldy, but I kept the crate outside, and the colder weather meant that most of them kept very well. I haven't used them all, even now. But the ones that remain are very small and getting a bit dried out.

As usual, I walked three times a week with my friend Sheila, along part of the Salt Lake trail. I say 'as usual' but for a couple of weeks in January I didn't walk due to having Covid, and for a couple of weeks in February she didn't walk, due to isolating and then having Covid herself. But in March we were both fine, and although we sometimes had to wrap up extra-warm, with woolly hats and scarves, it was good to get out first thing. 

In addition to being cold, there was a fair amount of rain, so that the Salt Lake was about as full as it ever gets: 

The picture doesn't really show it well, but usually there are several metres more of 'beach' before the water starts.

Flamingoes, of course, have been much in evidence, though never close enough for good pictures:

My freesias came out, over a week later than their usual date, and didn't last long, but they were pretty for a few days:

At the end of the month, I popped around the corner to buy something from 'Kritikos', our convenient supermarket which was previously 'Savemore', and before that 'Micro', and before that 'Orphanides Express', and before that 'Kleitos'.  Yes, all those different supermarkets in the not-quite-sixteen years since we moved to this house (how can it possibly be sixteen...?)

And, like all its predecessors, it had closed. Abruptly, with no warning. 

I wonder what its next incarnation will be... or whether it just isn't commercially viable to have a supermarket in a residential area like this one. 

I don't even take as many photos of the cats as I used to. Alexander and Lady Jane are eight years old now, and Alex, at least, is just starting to slow down a little. He, like me, seems quite sensitive to both extremes of weather; he doesn't like it being cold, but he doesn't like heat either. Here he is, worn out after being outside in the unexpected warmth of April (and it was VERY hot for a couple of days - up to 27 degrees, with a dust storm from the Sahara)

Jane, however, likes the heat so much that even in July and August she pointedly departs from any room where the air conditioning is turned on. She has spent much of the winter curled up in a beanbag right against a radiator. And even in early April, when I was, at last, shedding a layer or two, she was clearly hinting that she wanted the heating on again:

Yes, Jane is such an unusual cat that she actually sleeps in a bed that is intended for cats! 

Visitors and Blustery Days in Cyprus

January, as I described at length, was mostly taken up with Covid. Not that I had it seriously, thankfully, and Richard never did catch it. By the end of the month normal pandemic life had resumed albeit with reduced energy levels and a nasty cough. 

In the middle of February we were delighted that one of my second cousins and her family were able to come and visit. I last saw my cousin thirty-five years ago but one of the great things about Facebook is the ability to get in touch with long-lost friends and relatives. 

The weather, as so often happens mid-February, was pleasantly warm and sunny, so they were able to get out and about, and the week flew past. Unfortunately my cousins were not able to meet our closest friends, who were isolating for most of the month, as one after another of them caught Covid. Happily it was even more mildly than I had it, and (so far, anyway) with no lasting effects. 

And so to March. 

Almost every year the balmier weather of February gives way to a much chillier March. Walking with my friend in the Salt Lake Park on Thursday morning, wearing a warm hat, rather than a sun hat, we were startled to see a rainbow:

It wasn't raining where we were walking (for which I was thankful) and the rainbow didn't last very long. But it was extremely windy. We watched some birds trying to fly from the top of a tree, apparently hovering or even flying backwards as they battled against the gusts.

Yesterday was quite pleasant, and Richard went sailing with a friend although it was so cold, with rain threatening, that they didn't stay out as long as they had hoped. 

Today, after lunch, Richard suggested a walk along the Mackenzie promenade, and perhaps an ice cream at one of the cafés. It looked very windy despite the temperature being 17 degrees and sunny, so we wrapped up warmly. Richard took a woolly hat. I didn't, but rather wished I had done so...

The waves, usually very calm here, were extremely choppy: 

As we approached the section with the ice cream cafés, I saw a sign for hot chocolate. Somehow that seemed a lot more appealing than ice cream, as we were both feeling a little chilly. So I suggested we ask if they had any non-dairy milks. Yes, they told us, they had either coconut or almond milk. A great improvement on a couple of years ago when the only option tended to be soya. So we ordered hot chocolate made with coconut milk and sat down in some relief after the buffeting of the wind. 

They were very good, and warmed us up nicely. We don't think we've been in this particular café before - it had a typically Cypriot interior, with both a wood-burning heater for the winter, and high wall fans for the summer:

Neither were switched on, since the temperature inside was just right, at least with our warm jackets on. 

The other typical feature was a cat, wandering around sniffing under the tables in case any previous customers had dropped anything:

It was quite a large cat, evidently an elderly one which seemed entirely oblivious to people. Not a feral cat, however: it was clean and well-fed. 

Then, warmed by our hot chocolate, we set out again, this time against the wind so it was much more of a struggle. I got quite cold before we reached the turn-off for the car park.  Yes, we drove most of the way, as we have done before when walking along the promenade. We didn't walk nearly far enough to walk off the hot chocolate calories... but I was extremely thankful to be out of the wind at last.

This blustery weather is predicted to continue, along with somewhat grey days and some rain, and chilly nights, though reasonably warm in the daytimes: 

I feel as if my energy levels are pretty much restored now, or as much as is possible at my advanced age. I still have an occasional cough, but it's a whole lot better than it was a month ago. 

Summer easing in gradually; restrictions ease

It's a bit of a shock to realise that my last post was early in March. Time seems to expand and contract more randomly than usual in these Covid-dominated years.  The weeks go by, and the main topics of conversation with everyone cover the epidemiological situation in various countries, the different vaccines, and the pros and cons of cloth or disposable masks.  We check numbers of new cases daily, we chat online with our family, and we wonder if we're ever going to be able to travel again...

Back to March, and one of my first signs of spring advancing well is a freesia blooming: 

Not many of my freesias flowered this year, and those that did have all reverted to this bright pink which has very little scent. Perhaps I should buy some more in the autumn. 

In March, we were allowed to have up to four visitors in our homes, theoretically for up to three hours at a time. We were able to send up to two text messages per day asking for permission to exercise, or go shopping, or to visit friends. The limit of four visitors didn't entirely make sense, since it meant that we were able to visit out closest friends (who are, currently, a household of six) but they could not all come here at the same time. 

We were also still allowed to exercise outside with one other person, so I continued walking by the Salt Lake with my friend Sheila first thing, three times per week. We realised that we take the flamingoes rather for granted once they have arrived and established themselves for the winter. But I did take one photo:

It rained, off and on; not excessively, and thankfully there were no leaks from our roof. And, as always happens in March, the yellow shrubs and wild flowers bloomed - and I managed one relevant photo of 'yellow month' too: 

It was quite chilly, sometimes, first thing. But we reminded ourselves to be thankful...

Now that we're part of the local Anglican church, we celebrate according to the Western calendar, which is out of step with the rest of the island. So there was a service on the UK Mothering Sunday where we were given little posies:

And Western Easter, on April 4th: 

But I'm leaping ahead of myself. On the last Wednesday of March, the monthly outside book sale at the church was allowed to happen for the first time since the end of November: 

A week or so after Western Easter, Richard was on his way out when a neighbour across the street called him over, and said he should have some lemons. A tree was absolutely loaded with fruit, and if they're not picked then next year's blossom won't be so strong - and there's also the risk of hundreds of rotting lemons all over the ground. The neighbour was giving bags of lemons to everyone who would take them: 

This happened twice. I froze lots of lemon juice in ice cube trays, for those occasions later in the year when I need a tablespoon of lemon juice and don't have any fresh ones. I froze larger amounts, too, in the hope that maybe one of our sons will be able to come out at some point, and I will make lemonade to celebrate. I no longer make lemonade it as it tends to give us mouth ulcers. 

I made lemon cake, and experimented with three different kinds of dairy-free lemon curd, including two vegan ones which were quite successful, if a tad runny. I made candied lemon peel... and I dehydrated as many lemons as I could:

I froze them in small tubs, and made the happy discovery that just one slice of dehydrated lemon in a jug of water gives a very pleasant lemony flavour. 

My birthday approached; last year we couldn't see anybody at all, so I wanted to celebrate with our friends - we are always invited to birthday meals for them, including the children. But we couldn't have more than four people in our house. They came up with the brilliant idea of us going to theirs instead - so we bought takeaway chicken, potatoes and salad, and I cooked a supermarket spanokopitta, and made extra salad and a pineapple cake with dairy-free cream cheese topping. And a dairy-free lemon cheesecake. Yes, we still had lemons...

We had leftovers, too, for a couple of days afterwards.

It was around this time that I realised our patio plants were starting to look very dry, so I began watering again first thing, three times a week, on days I don't walk with Sheila.

But the Covid case numbers in Cyprus were looking very bad. Vaccination was taking a while to be rolled out, and we were seeing over 700 new cases per day reported; this is an enormous number for such a small country. The UK was doing better and better, with their extensive vaccine programme, but the hospitals in Cyprus were getting overloaded.

So as the last week of April and the first week of May were Easter holidays for the schools (Greek Easter being May 2nd) the government decreed a two-week lockdown: just one outing per day allowed, no visitors in houses, no church services, all shops shut other than those selling food, and pharmacies. The April book sale was cancelled, and while the Orthodox Churches were allowed their Holy Week liturgies and a mass for Holy Saturday, with an extended curfew until 1am that morning only, there was no congregation allowed in Sunday services for two weeks. 

Bizarrely, though - or perhaps they knew that this would happen anyway - we were allowed one exception to the 'no visitors' rule, on Greek Easter Sunday. Better still, rather than being limited to four visitors, groups of up to ten in total were allowed to gather. So our friends came over for the first time this year, for a Sunday afternoon of games, a DVD for the younger ones, and a shared cold meal which ended with rather a lot of chocolate:

I was able to book a vaccination for a week ago, and today, at last, Richard has managed to book one too  (for tomorrow).  Vaccinations are happening rapidly in Cyprus now, and over 40% of the population has had the first one.  Case numbers are going down again - between 100 and 300 the last few days, with the hospitals doing much better - so the two-week lockdown came to an end on May 10th, and the SMS permission requirement has been shelved. 

Instead, people need 'safe passes' to go to certain places - big retail shops, church services and other potentially crowded venues. We could have rapid tests, but don't fancy waiting outside in the heat, in long queues, but as we can go to most shops anyway, we're not too worried. In a fortnight's time I will be 'safe' anyway, due to having had my first vaccination three weeks earlier. 

At the end of April, we had something of a heatwave - it was up to thirty degrees, a couple of times, during the middle of the day. It stayed reasonably cool overnight, and it wasn't humid, but we did start using the ceiling fans - for a few days, until it cooled down again. We had been using our winter-thickness duvet (9 tog and 4.5 tog held together with paperclips) for months, but on May 1st I removed the thin one, giving us just the medium one. A week later I switched them, and washed the medium one so it could be packed away until the Autumn. Just a week after that, I put the thin one away too, so we just have a double duvet cover. Even though it's cooled down since the end of April, thankfully, we don't seem to need more. 

We also put away some of our winter clothes, and dug out our shorts and tee shirts. I'm gradually washing jackets and packing those away for the autumn. And whereas the temperatures have often soared into the mid-thirties again by mid-May, it's not happening this year. So far, anyway.  Last year, my Facebook memories inform me, it was 39C in the shade on May 19th. This year, it's a mere 26 degrees today, with 28-29 predicted for the next few days. Jeans would be fine, but having moved to the shorts part of the year, I'm somehow reluctant to switch back again. 

It's good that the temperatures aren't too extreme, because Richard's boat is currently out of the water having its 'dry dock' maintenance, something he plans to do every other year. He had hoped it would be lifted out a couple of months ago, but arranging it all took much longer than usual. His Kingfisher Yacht Cyprus blog gives photos and descriptions of what he's been doing, if anyone is interested.

We need to clean our air conditioners within the next couple of weeks, and I should give the curtains their annual wash before it gets too hot to think. If only it would remain like this, sunny and warm but neither too hot nor humid... 

Half-way through January

It's only three weeks since Christmas. That's easy enough to calculate, of course, but it feels like much, much longer. December - when we were still able to have up to ten people meeting at a time - seems like a distant dream.

Christmas Day was pleasant despite being unable to see any of our family. We were able to go to a church service in the morning, albeit in a masked and distanced way, and it was good to see people. Our closest friends came over for lunch, and games in the afternoon, followed by a high tea where none of us felt hungry, but all of us ate plenty.  

On Boxing Day we didn't do much; on the Sunday we had some other friends to lunch and mainly ate leftovers. 

It almost felt like normality. 

But the Covid numbers were climbing. On December 28th, there were 751 new cases announced in Cyprus.  That's equivalent to around 50,000 in the larger countries of Western Europe, or the UK. This is a small country, and while the hospitals weren't yet full, the authorities were getting worried. The restrictions - such as they were - from mid-December were due to end on January 11th. Schools were closed until then, and only two people were supposed to meet outside, although - bizarrely - we could still be with up to eight other people indoors.

On 29th December, after an emergency meeting, the government announced that people could no longer visit anyone else's home. That was in place until December 10th, we were told, but on New Year's Eve there was a relaxation of the rules. We could invite one other family to our home, and the curfew would not start until 1am on New Year's Day rather than 9.00pm as it had been the rest of the time. 

So Richard took the opportunity of inviting some friends to sail on New Year's Eve; it seemed reasonable to be able to count his boat as part of our home, and was safer (from the virus perspective) since it's outside rather than indoors.  And as the wind was light, and the weather not too hot, I went too. For my first time on his boat Liza. 

It was an enjoyable day, and I said I might even go again at the end of 2021. 

In the evening we were the one household invited to our other friends for an evening meal and games; I just about managed to stay awake. I really wanted to make sure 2020 had gone... even though it took me a few days to catch up on the lost sleep. I don't do well with late nights!

So from January 1st we were back to virtual meetings only, with the exception that two people from different households are still allowed to meet outside for exercise. So I continued walking first thing with my friend Sheila. Sadly, although daily Covid case numbers dropped a bit, they were still in the four hundred range, so we knew the restrictions were not going to be relaxed on January 11th. Indeed, it was fairly certain that we'd be subject to another lockdown. 

That has proved to be the case; it was announced last week that from January 10th until the end of the month we must stay at home, other than 'essential' outings, for which we must send an SMS request to the government. But it's not as strict as the lockdown last spring.  For one thing, we're allowed two daily requests rather than being limited to one. Somehow that makes an enormous difference.

We're also allowed to walk in parks or on beaches, as exercise is one of the permitted reasons for going out. And two unrelated people can still meet for exercise, though no more than two (unless one of them has under-age children with them). 

The weather has been very mild, with no rain at all until Wednesday when there were several heavy showers. That meant that on Thursday morning, the flamingoes were much closer to the shores of the Salt Lake than usual. I didn't have my camera with me, of course, but was able to take a slightly better photo of a few of them with my phone: 

And I took a video, albeit not great quality, showing flamingoes walking, and some of them flying.  (If you decide to watch it, it looks better if you either use the full-screen option or click the YouTube option to see it there).

Walking first thing is not just good exercise, and a chance to spend time with a friend, it's a great start to the day, which gives me more energy and focus.  At least, in theory. It's not easy to get things done in this continued uncertainty. And while we had plans to do various things in the house, we didn't manage to get organised enough to buy what we needed before the current lockdown. All shops deemed non-essential are closed, although many more now offer online ordering. 

So the first week has almost ended, and it hasn't been too bad. Perhaps it's easier because we've done it before. Maybe it's less stressful because we're no longer worried that the virus might leap up at us from the supermarket. We all wear masks, and of course we do wash our hands when we arrive home, as it's a good idea in general. But I often forget to sanitise my hands on the way in and out of shops, and it's not enforced. Nor is anyone wearing those horrible disposable plastic gloves that were required back in the spring last year. 

And perhaps it's less worrying because, although the scope of Covid has been far, far worse than anyone imagined, the vaccinations offer hope, at last, that the elderly and the most vulnerable will be safe. Of course it's very difficult for many businesses, hard hit by last year's lockdown, suddenly having to close again. Some may never recover. 

The positive case numbers have been a bit better - around 250-350 the last few days, reflecting the fact that we haven't been able to meet in other people's houses since the start of the year. We don't know what will be announced for February; perhaps 'non-essential' businesses will be able to open again, if the numbers stabilise and the hospitals stop being over-crowded. But I doubt if we'll be allowed to get together with friends inside for some time to come. 

More images of autumn in Cyprus

Two weeks ago exactly I wrote a post with a few images I associate with Autumn in Cyprus.  Some fruit, a cat bed, a cloudy sunset, and a few fallen leaves in our side yard.

Since then the temperature has dropped somewhat; this morning I switched the thin duvet, which we started using just two weeks ago, for the warmer one. We're both wearing long-sleeved warm sweaters or jackets all the time during the day, not just in evenings. I have put both my pairs of summer sandals through the washing machine, and put them away for the winter. 

And this morning I went out for a short walk on my own (since my friend Sheila is self-isolating with her family, hopefully just for a few days, after a Covid positive contact). I don't walk along the Salt Lake trail when I'm by myself, but today I did go through what we think of as the main part of the park area.  And since there was nobody to chat with, I observed the trees and foliage rather more than I normally do. 

The first thing that struck me was how green everywhere was looking:

It might look a bit brown to those from rainier climes, but a month ago the soil was bare, other than a few hardy weeds.  Now there is grass springing up everywhere.

Most of the trees are evergreen; many are pines, of course, but there are others which aren't pine, but still don't seem to lose their leaves. 

As I walked around the local streets, on a meandering route home from the park, I did see some evidence of plants that were changing colour, although they look brown and dead rather than red or orange:

And there are citrus trees all over the place too. When we first saw these, twenty-three years ago, it was rather exciting. We had an excellent orange tree and several lemon trees in the back garden of our rental house, and it felt very odd  - and thrilling! - to pick fresh oranges and lemons. 

Now, though we no longer have any of our own, we take them for granted.  The new season oranges and lemons are coming into the shops now, along with the satsumas I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. Trees like this are so commonplace that I tend to forget what a novelty they are to visitors from places that don't produce citrus fruit. 

And then, as I was almost home, I finally spotted a climbing plant that actually looked Autumnal.  Possibly it's meant to look this way, and those are bracts rather than leaves changing colour - I know very little about plants - but I liked the way it looked anyway: 

It's been good having some Autumn weather - too often Larnaka moves from Summer into Winter with very little in between. Tomorrow is Advent Sunday, and December starts on Tuesday. Today is supposed to be windy and rainy, although the sun shone for most of the morning and even now it's dry, albeit rather greyer. So we still don't know if our roof repairs have stopped our ongoing leaking! 

Flamingoes!

Just two days ago, I wrote about the Larnaka Salt Lake. It's an interesting area not just because of the salt, but because it's home to thousands of flamingoes over the winter. There weren't very many on Thursday morning, and they were rather a long way away.

But this morning, there were lots. Several hundred, at least. We reached the Airport Road end of the trail, and could see quite a group of flamingoes, close to the edge of the lake: 

Nobody is supposed to go any closer to them than the trail, as they could be frightened away. And I rather wished I'd taken my camera rather than just being equipped with my phone. Still, zooming in slightly, even though not high quality, does make some of the flamingoes fairly clear. Even if they still just look like pink blobs, they are at least pink blobs with long legs.  The water isn't deep, so they were standing in their usual spread out groups, making quite a bit of noise. 

No maximum group size, masks or social distancing required for flamingoes! 

These weren't the only ones on the lake - here's another zoomed out shot, showing many others, further away. It was supposed to have been raining yesterday afternoon and most of today, so perhaps they arrived in anticipation, only to find a pleasantly sunny weekend: 

As we watched, the long line in the distance started moving. Apparently one flamingo had decided to head in the direction of the group nearest to us, and the others followed... 

There's a notice board at the end of the Salt Lake trail, explaining some of the history of the place, along with some of the mythology (albeit expressed as history), in both English and Greek: 

Here's just the English part which might be clear enough to read if you click the photo to enlarge it. It doesn't say how the salt was harvested or cleaned, but it does explain that the flamingoes eat tiny pink brine shrimps that grow in the lake during the winter. When this source of food is gone (usually around April or May), they fly away to another lake in Cyprus, or back to Africa for the winter there.