Free Speech or totalitarianism?

 We took no interest in the royal events a couple of weekends but I was appalled at the actions of the Metropolitan Police and their high-handed actions with people who wished to protest at the proceedings. It matters not whether the protesters were republicans or “Just Stop Oil” extremists - they have a right to protest about things they do not agree with. Other people may disagree with their actions and have the right, within reason, to disagree with the protesters. That is democracy in action. The new Policing Act, parts of which were rushed through Parliament, is at complete divergence with the British belief in democracy and the right to free speech.

It does seem from afar that the UK is drifting (quite quickly) into a right wing position, where parliamentary scrutiny is bypassed by ministerial edicts (and you only need to see the way in which catch-all  legislation is only reluctantly surrendered by ministers). Altogether it leaves a rather sour taste in my mouth.

Sad news yesterday - we made friends with an English couple about ten years ago and became quite close. Meals out, meals in, and a shared interest in cricket (for the men) and a shared interest in many other things (for the women). And then, about three years ago, she changed at first subtly and then demonstrably. Rudeness and breaking of confidence became the norm, and reluctantly we dropped them. About two years ago we met them by chance at a bar, and she told us in no uncertain terms that her husband was suffering from Parkinson’s, and was telling everybody. Sad for him, and should have been sad for her. Yesterday we were in the same bar and he came in for lunch with a carer. He was a hollowed-out individual shuffling in with a stick. He walked past us with no recognition, and we decided it was better not to add to his confusion by going over to speak. It turned out that (Ann spoke to the carer as she was paying their bill) that he now had a live-in Asian carer, and that his wife had developed Alzheimer’s and died shortly afterwards. How tragic - a lively couple only a few years older than us - and her life ending suddenly (perhaps a blessing) and he existing as a shell of the man we knew.

I know it is an inevitable byproduct of getting older that other people age and die. I suspect, in that situation … I wouldn’t have a clue as to how to proceed. Let’s hope it never comes to that.

It is a sign of summer that, suddenly, out of nowhere, The Ashes are about to dominate the television screens of cricket lovers. The only problem is that we hate to be inside watching television when the weather is as beautiful as a typical Cyprus summer. A conundrum if ever there was one … a typical first world problem.

Schadenfreude … surely not?

 When the chickens come home to roost, and it is possible that you may have predicted it, there is a slight feeling of schadenfreude or epicaricacy as the English might prefer. I don’t believe that I am a vindictive person, yet the thought of some political figures getting their comeuppance fills me with a warm feeling. Some are currently falling, others have fallen and others are nervously on the precipice awaiting their fate.

In Scotland Nicola Sturgeon and her husband, and the rest of the crooked SNP crew have obviously being filling their pockets and have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Anyone noticed a £100,000 + motor home on the drive? As far as Trump is concerned the clock is ticking, and his acolyte Boris Johnson is preparing for the hangman’s noose and the long drop. It was David Cameron who referred to Johnson as the “greased piglet”, and never was an epithet more appropriate.

Of course it is said to be a British trait to build someone or something up to the heights, and then rejoice in pulling them down to earth. With politicians (as far as I am concerned) the venality of it all makes me nauseous. If it was second-hand car salesmen, or estate agents, I would accept it for the simple reason that they make no pretence at anything other than self-serving greed. I used, when I was much younger, to admire journalists, and even considered becoming one after university.

Was it an illusion, hard-hitting investigative reporters speaking truth to power? I’ll never know but the sorry state of journalism was never more dire. In the morning, over coffee in bed, Ann and I read the British newspapers and newsfeeds. I subscribe to The Times, which Ann shares, and I also read The Guardian online. Skimming The Daily Mail first is an act of masochism but can bring a smile to my face. And then a mysterious occurrence - I can be reading an article (sports, current affairs, business - it doesn’t matter) and a strange sense of déjà vu can envelop me. Have I read this before? I check back. Yes. It’s the same article, literally word for word, that appeared yesterday in one of the broadsheets. Add this to the increasing control of the newspaper tone and opinion by the owners, and it’s a one way trip to hell. The kowtowing of the editors and owners to the government (and still Paul Dacre hasn’t been “honoured”) is sickening. And, as for the pathetic attempts to persuade people by brainwashing that Camilla is somehow not the Queen Consort but the Queen, which was against the wishes of Elizabeth II, sticks in my craw.

It must be the life I have led for the last seventy years but never have public figures had the feet of clay that are so apparent. I have had a lifelong interest in politics (as my long suffering wife will tell you) and I remember Harold MacMillan with affection. The night I saw Alec Douglas Home resign and the dignity of his television address to the nation moved me to tears at the age of eleven. Even Prime Ministers on the other side of the political spectrum like Harold Wilson had my respect because their mission was to identify the nation’s problems and try and put them right. Margaret Thatcher was strong and forthright (and sometimes very wrong) and I never believed that she was putting anything other than the country’s good at the heart of what she did.

The Blair and Brown years dug a financial hole that the UK has never managed to dig itself out of, and as far as Cameron and the rest … their noses were so deeply in the trough that their ears were blocked, and it will only be the enraged electorate that finally drains the swamp. Whether the next election will be a cause of long-lasting celebration or not, I do not know. Quo vadis?

For a different point of view on our life here, you might enjoy Ann’s blog “Further Musings from a Cyprus Garden” which you can find at

http://furthermusingsfromacyprusgarden.blogspot.com/

A light in the darkness …

 Looking back at my last blog there was a fair bit of doom and gloom there, and one of our mantras is - like Monty Python - to always look on the bright side of life. When I stray from that path, Ann is always keen to remind me that we had agreed to focus on the positive. And she is right. Anything other than that will be a long, downward path.

Today the sun is shining, the sky is blue and the breeze is calm. Occasionally we forget what a lovely house we live in, with its beautiful garden (and how many hours has she laboured, even if it is a labour of love?) and peace and tranquility. We, and the managerie, are healthy and happy and fulfilled. We look westwards over the Mediterranean Sea and could not be happier. Beautiful and inviting though the swimming pool looks, we know from experience that it will be another three weeks before that first dip.

My writing is making substantial progress and it will soon be time to bring the desktop fan into play. Our study is very bearable in the morning, and the words are flying onto the page. “Bridges over the Tyne” is proving something of a cathartic experience, delving into the Newcastle underworld in the 1970s. The time of Vince Lander, T. Dan Smith and John Poulson, who were all clients of my father although I never understood the significance of that at the time. My novel, a work of fiction, draws upon those memories and my research. It is proving engrossing. Only time will tell if it leads me to become a best-selling author.

One of the things we discovered during our self-imposed lockdown was a renewed love of cooking, especially in the cooler months. An air fryer brought a new dimension to our culinary endeavours, a soup maker has proved an absolute boon, a new electric oven (which actually achieves the temperature set) and a set of Ninja knives … hot stuff indeed. But the most beneficial item we bought cost €5. It was an app for our iPads called Paprika, which is the most sophisticated way of downloading, modifying and scaling recipes from all over the internet. I believe it is available for IOS, Android and Windows and is highly recommended. You can find it at

https://www.paprikaapp.com/

For a different point of view on our life here, you might enjoy Ann’s blog “Further Musings from a Cyprus Garden” which you can find at

http://furthermusingsfromacyprusgarden.blogspot.com/

The State of the Nation (s)

 Recent events in both the UK and the EU have focused the mind wonderfully when it comes to living in Cyprus. It has been increasingly apparent that the world is rowing ever smaller and more interlinked - and this has nothing to do with globalism. 

Perhaps most sickeningly of all Joe Biden came to (ostensibly) interfere in the Northern Ireland Protocol negotiations. It was nothing more than an excuse to appeal to the Irish-American voters in the next presidential election - of whom there are apparently millions - and the “selfie” he had with the murderous Gerry Adams caused me more than nausea. Having served in Northern Ireland in the early 1970s, I know just what damage that murderous pair (Adams and McGuiness) did. And then, not to receive their just desserts, thanks to Blair and the other surrender monkeys. Northern Ireland Protocol and the Good Friday Agreement be damned!

“Don’t be ill” is the mantra as the various union groups keep nurses and doctors out on strike (I’ve lost track of whether paramedics and other NHS are still on strike or not), and all the train drivers and postmen and driving instructors and … 

It is beyond belief that these strikes have been allowed to blossom and ruin the lives of millions of Britons who are struggling to make ends meet. I’ve lived through some inept and uncaring political administrations in my seventy years, but the current government is the worst by far. There was a time, although younger readers may find it hard to believe, when British governments focused on finding solutions to the problems citizens encountered. Why? Because they entered politics to make a difference for the better.

We are both affected by events near and far, and are increasingly likely to be so. The war in Ukraine has sent shock waves through the world, but it will be a storm in a teacup if China invades Taiwan. That could signal a world war to end all wars. And what is frightening and hopeless about it all is that people have no control over what is happening or likely to happen. I suppose we should be grateful that Hilary Clinton never made it to the White House. North Korea would be a memory and as for Iran?

Inevitably we try to ignore the storm clouds which appear from time to time. Cyprus seems an oasis at times like this. Our own mantra is to have “Fun in the Sun”. Interestingly we looked at the runners and riders of today’s Grand National. My choices (both rank outsiders) were “Born by the Sea” and “Back on the Lash”. Highly appropriate for us as our relationship blossomed by the sea and, allegedly, we have been known to drink alcohol from time to time. Cheers.

For a different point of view on our life here, you might enjoy Ann’s blog “Further Musings from a Cyprus Garden” which you can find at

http://furthermusingsfromacyprusgarden.blogspot.com/

“Housekeeping is like being caught in a revolving door.”

 I like a clean house and I hate cleaning. And I do believe my darling wife thinks the same. So the solution is to find someone who will do the work for us. Simple! Well not really. We started employing cleaners a few years ago, a Vietnamese girl who thought she knew best, a super lady from the Philippines who was great (but we had to dispense with her services after we “locked down” for health reasons). And then, the regular readers of my blog, will know we employed a thief and all the angst that entailed. Finally our lovely gardener’s wife cleaned for a few weeks but they have now returned home. We felt violated by the thief and perhaps still do.

But Spring is approaching and we feel that we have done our home work and so have started searching again. Not simple but we have our first applicant next week for a trial. So fingers crossed and references checked. It really is a strange thing having someone in your house. Our super pool man, Mick, has worked here for three years but never comes into the house. A cleaner is essential and a new gardener will be necessary. But so many people are offering their services and each poor experience leaves you bruised.

And, as if by magic, someone we vaguely know recommended a cleaner and she arrived (with her husband, an industrial-sized vacuum cleaner and all her cleaning materials) and the whirlwind was unleashed on Castle Douglas. We literally had to throw them out after two and a half hours, (not the agreed two hours) and they would not accept a penny more than was agreed. The house was absolutely immaculate and sparkling. They have visited three times more and we are delighted with what they have done. He has also helped Ann in the garden whilst his wife cleans the house. What a find!

A super visit from Ann’s daughter and a friend last week, only blighted by the poor weather which they seem to have brought with them from Sussex. I was totally horrified by the way prices in Latchi (where they were staying) in bars and restaurants have skyrocketed in the last few months. €65 for a steak, €16 for soup of the day … one of the UK papers wondered whether there was inflation or “greedflation”? I would hazard a guess the latter is true.

In any event, Cyprus is no longer a place where eating out or going for a drink is a cheap option. Food for thought perhaps …

A hornet’s nest or a storm in a teacup?

 My blog regarding the strikes and threatened industrial action in the UK has caused a bit of a stir but that is the joy of blogs. They are yours and reflect your beliefs and opinion. To have a comment from my stepdaughter was terrific, as we have strongly held view on many things - and, surprisingly, are not always in agreement. What a boring world if we all thought the same.

At the time of writing more strikes are promised and the government seems to be trying to “divide and conquer” by negotiating with some unions and not others. Junior doctors are the next to announce a strike, and no doubt they can square with the Hippocratic Oath in the silence of the night.

We have been heartened by the improving weather, and hope for an early Spring although the lack of rain may come back to bite us this summer. Our log store looks healthy, and should see us through to warmth and sunshine.

My 70th birthday is on the horizon and I have had to change my driving licence at the Citizens’ Office in Polis. What a mixed bag! It depends who deals with you. I collected the requisite form on Monday and was told to return on Tuesday. Off to the doctor’s surgery for the form to be signed and stamped, and bright and early on Tuesday I returned to the Citizens’ Office. There were three women waiting (but not with bated breath) and no customers in sight. I explained why I had come and the somewhat surly woman asked if I had an appointment. “I was told to return today”, I replied. 

“You need an appointment,” she intoned. 

“Can you deal with this today?”

“No, you need an appointment”.

So back on Thursday and four minutes later all was completed. The same women, the same lack of customers but a different, and most charming, woman to help me. Grrrh!

Lots of visits to doctors here and in Paphos recently. Tests, analysis, findings, new prescriptions (and cancelled prescriptions), and all the admin and excitement that entails. But the fly in the ointment is Paphos. There have been roadworks and “No Entry” signs, and diversions that lead nowhere. And now, even more roadworks, seeming endless concrete bollards, and “smart” car parks. What an utter shambles. No doubt all funded with EU money, but businesses and shops all over the place are going bust as they are literally isolated for months on end. Thursday 11.00 am and miles of roadworks and not a single sign of activity and certainly not a workman in sight. The Mayor of Paphos, in my view, has lost the plot.

Google Maps almost gave up on me. I’m sure I heard her sigh - more than once.

The Grand Adventure continues

 It is hard to believe that on 9th October, 2012, we set out on the great adventure - a new life in Cyprus. Even more surprising was the fact that we travelled on one-way tickets. It had been my idea, and Ann courageously agreed - despite the fact that she had never set foot on the island. There was a pre-departure agreement that, if either of us felt that we had made the wrong decision in the first twelve months, we would find another place to live. It took us eighteen months before we realised that we had not discussed the possibility … by which time we were settled in our current home.

Of course, in retrospect, we made some initial mistakes. We were grateful for help and advice, but so much of the opinion we were offered was dressed up as facts. And so, inevitably, we decided to follow our own instincts. My late friend, Dave Travis, was an enormous help, and it was his initial offer of an apartment in Polis that led us to settle in this part of the island. Otherwise we might have ended up in Pissouri (which had been our initial plan) and our house might have been sliding down the hill as so many others have found.

Thee have been many lessons learned. The insular nature of considerable numbers of British expats leads to a cliquishness which is often based on place of origin and social class. Of course people like to mix with people like themselves, but surely not to the exclusion of all others? There is also a need for instant friendship of those people (especially women in our experience) who, shortly after meeting you, declare lifelong friendship. Again this was alien to us, and we have learned to keep our distance from some of those who clamour the loudest.

The Covid lockdowns inevitably changed the way people interacted, and many people of our acquaintance no longer go out two or three times weekly to socialise at bars and restaurants. Our own situation (and we fall into the “vulnerable” category) led us to lockdown before the government enforced it, and we slowly come out of our shells from time to time. Of course we are lucky to live in a lovely home, with fabulous views, and Ann and I (and our three adorable pets) make a very self-contained unit.

But the adventure continues. Ann is once again driving (on her own), her balance issues are a thing of the past, and recent problems with her health have been happily resolved. Those of you hoping to follow in our footsteps should note that health care in Cyprus has been transformed in the last three years, and the GESY system really works well. If you are in receipt of a British S1 form, and can satisfy the more stringent requirements of the post-Brexit regime, then step forward with confidence. You will be well looked after.

My writing came to something of a halt over the last month (possibly too much “fun in the sun” going on), but the winter months are more and more inviting. Ann has a barrage of hobbies and interests, with more to investigate. To conclude the last decade has been the most fulfilling of our lives and we move forward with confidence and optimism. Not long until the pool is warm enough to swim in. Until then it is enough to throw another log on the fire. Life is good.

Tidings of great …

Tidings of great joy or of woe? Who can possibly tell amidst the doom and gloom of the reports filling the main stream media? It really does send negative vibrations across the airwaves, as if the whole of the western world is going to hell in a handcart. Politicians from both wings of the spectrum are floundering about, controlled by hidden forces. Honesty … probity … decency … rationality … no chance.

We, in Cyprus, feel somewhat insulated from the desperate state of the UK, but it doesn’t stop us feeling sympathy for friends and family who are suffering the shameful deprivations people are undergoing. And, let me put my cards on the table, I worked non-stop before and after university and did not ever consider going on strike. In the first instance, as an army officer it was illegal to strike and I would probably have  ended up in the Tower of London. After that, the years of teaching were dedicated to the pupils I taught and the colleagues with whom I worked. Striking … I have always vehemently opposed strikes which damage the public. Nurses and ambulance staff striking to save the NHS - what a load of self-serving twaddle.

All of us who lived through the 1970s and had to endure the trade unions attempting to hold the country and the government to ransom, the “winter of discontent”, the heartbreaking inflation and the unbelievable decision of the government to give in to the strikes (with eye watering pay increases) to buy off the unions, know that the 2020s is a rerun of the 1970s without the flared trousers. After Oxford, I went into teaching and was incredulous when the school increased salaries by 30%. Within a year or two I was worse off. I now wait, not with bated breath, for the first union apparatchiks to mention the dreaded phrase “pay differentials” - which was the signal for the next round of blackmail to begin.

Where it will all end I have no idea, but - as the running joke in Star Wars had it - “I have a bad feeling about this”.

2023 is the year we work hard to put the last two years of broken bones (Ann’s) behind us and a nasty bout of illness which is now under control (mine). We have always been “glass half full” kind of people, and so optimism is the order of the day. I trust all the readers of this blog have a happy, healthy and fulfilling year. In the next month this blog will record its 70,000th page visit. Will that be you?