It’s now or never ...

 Has the time come? The age profile of those being offered vaccinations against COVID-19 is gradually getting lower. I read today that this week people over the age of 74 can apply. And then that age will fall and - eventually - we shall be the right age to be vaccinated. The question then is whether we want to be vaccinated or not. It’s such an individual matter. Ann and I, through age and medical history, would be deemed “vulnerable” and that’s good enough for me. I shall bare my arm, grit my teeth and “feel a little prick”. Ann is mulling all this over and I shall support whatever decision she comes to.

I read with incredulity that Cyprus is planning to welcome Israelis with vaccination passports as tourists from the first of April. Something of an appropriate date in my opinion. If that is to be the case then hospitality venues will open and the whole game will begin again. Already there is a sense that the vaccine  has freed people from the obligation of behaving sensibly. I despair of news reports and photographs from both the UK and Cyprus of people not giving a damn about others. “Me, me, me” is the message that is shouted from the tabloid press and the television stations.

Individuals seem to think that if they are low risk, then their lives and freedoms and inalienable rights are more important than anything else. Given that the western world (or at least those parts that are wealthy enough to purchase the vaccines) will be vaccinated by the end of 2021, it begs the question why life cannot be put on hold for a few months longer.

There is a moral question here of course - yet another elephant lurking in the room. It is something of a truism that “No one is safe until everyone is safe”. The wealthier nations have been buying up enormous stocks of vaccines, whilst the third world is being cast adrift. Someone in The Guardian this morning suggested this would result in wealthier nations (mostly with majority white populations) closing their borders to black and brown (and may as well include Asian) people who would not have the inevitable vaccination passports. Horrifying yet perhaps with a grain of truth.

Last brick in the wall ...

 Well, we have done it ... we have crossed the final bureaucratic hurdle to ensure we can continue to live here in Cyprus. We acquired our MEU3 documents, joined GESY, registered for tax (and to add insult to injury I actually had to pay tax last year), and now have bright, shiny Cyprus driving licences to replace our UK ones. We have a Cyprus bank account, pay car tax, our MOT certificates are up to date, and our car insurance is always paid. This is not a virtue-signalling exercise on our part. It is more an illustration of the hurdles you face - nothing insurmountable but it can be time-consuming.

At the moment we are in something of an Indian summer (if one can coin that phrase in winter in Cyprus), but it is all change from the middle of next week with single figure daytime temperatures. If you are under feet of snow in the UK, that probably sounds a little insignificant. But after eight years here, it will come as a bit of a shock to us. To be on the safe side we have ordered some more logs from “The Professor”, and they are due to be delivered this weekend.

You cannot imagine the delight we felt when we visited our local supermarket and found items we had been searching for ... and it seems like forever. Rapeseed oil, frozen short crust and puff pastry, frozen hash browns and a pink cleaning fluid that was recommended and works like a dream. We bought a great deal of stuff, and have a delivery this afternoon for other essentials. After that the cupboards will be full, the freezers stuffed with food, and we shall then not have to venture too far once the temperature drops.

Vaccination of the very elderly is slowly taking place, but the number of vaccines is small - well played the EU. I suspect we shall be offered one eventually but I am not holding my breath. Infections have fallen under the current restrictions but not far enough in my opinion. Driving through Polis or Paphos it is noticeable how few people are obeying the government decrees, and there is a sense of how fed up people are becoming. But as a friend of mine wrote on Facebook recently, “If you don’t like wearing a mask, imagine how you’ll feel on a ventilator.”