My darling wife has decided to blog about our life here in Cyprus. It’s a series of musings from our garden here. No doubt her take on life here will be different to mine and may well be illuminating. You can access her blog at musingsfromacyprusgarden.blogspot.com
Have a look and see what you think ...
Thursday, 7 May 2020
Monday, 20 April 2020
Stoicism and the lockdown ...
Well we have now been self-isolating for nearly forty days and we are still here - alive and kicking. If this scenario goes on until December 2021 (according to a statement from a minister in the government here) then the economy will be ruined for a generation. Cyprus depends on international tourism and confidence in flying to destinations in the sun will be low. But the alternative is to ease restrictions too early and allow the virus to flourish. This is not a decision I would like to make.
In the meantime the sun shines and we can feel summer approaching. There is a danger that we sit in our ivory tower thinking things are not too bad, whilst Cypriots across the island face destitution and financial ruin. Being a great believer in Stoicism, we ask ourselves if there is anything we can do to change matters. As things stand, we cannot and Stoics believe you should not worry about matters you cannot influence. But that is easier said than done.
We have been keeping ourselves busy - Ann more than me - and as a result our garden has never looked more lovely. Mornings tend to be when we do things and afternoons tend to be for relaxing, and having the occasional glass or two. Our experiments in the world of cookery become slightly more adventurous as time passes.
Our plantings of spring onions, chilli, courgettes, strawberries and tomatoes may not make us self-sufficient but it is marvellous to see things grow. Strawberries and ice cream for breakfast the other days was hedonistic in the extreme.
In the meantime the sun shines and we can feel summer approaching. There is a danger that we sit in our ivory tower thinking things are not too bad, whilst Cypriots across the island face destitution and financial ruin. Being a great believer in Stoicism, we ask ourselves if there is anything we can do to change matters. As things stand, we cannot and Stoics believe you should not worry about matters you cannot influence. But that is easier said than done.
We have been keeping ourselves busy - Ann more than me - and as a result our garden has never looked more lovely. Mornings tend to be when we do things and afternoons tend to be for relaxing, and having the occasional glass or two. Our experiments in the world of cookery become slightly more adventurous as time passes.
Our plantings of spring onions, chilli, courgettes, strawberries and tomatoes may not make us self-sufficient but it is marvellous to see things grow. Strawberries and ice cream for breakfast the other days was hedonistic in the extreme.
Sunday, 5 April 2020
23 days and counting ...
So we have been self-isolating for 23 days now and it is instructive to see how the rest of Cyprus and also the UK is reacting to increased restrictions on movement. To us it seems that a considerable proportion of people in both countries are just not following the “instructions” their government is issuing. The result here in Cyprus is that for the second time in a fortnight the government has issued stricter proclamations. The end result is that people who were obeying the original proclamation have now had their freedom further restricted by the actions of the thoughtless and the entitled.
What a pity. Anyone with half a brain cell can surely understand that this pandemic is potentially fatal - if not to them, then to their family and friends. There has always appeared to be a part of the Cypriot mentality that means people only obey laws if they think they are either sensible or likely to be enforced. Driving to Polis to shop at 06.45 in the morning and the coast road was akin to a Grand Prix.
I like to feel we have dealt with this curfew well and we have behaved sensibly. And, of course, we enjoy our own company which is a bonus. We are experimenting with all sorts of cooking and the shelf of Jamie Oliver cookbooks is being delved into more than we might have expected. We also set ourselves a target of not wasting any food at all, and so all sorts of leftovers are being recruited for experimental cookery.
As the weather becomes warmer then the easier it will be for us to enjoy having “fun in the sun” which was our raison d’être in moving to this beautiful island. It should be warm enough to swim in the pool in about five to six weeks, and that will be a daily pleasure until October. I trust that by then the restrictions will be lifted but in my heart of hearts I fear it will be more like this time next year before life returns to something like normalcy.
Businesses (especially anything related to the tourist industry) may not survive and others may struggle for years to come. Tourism requires trust and many people will not willingly step onto an aircraft or board a cruise liner for a long, long time. But, with optimism and sense, mankind will come through this crisis.
What a pity. Anyone with half a brain cell can surely understand that this pandemic is potentially fatal - if not to them, then to their family and friends. There has always appeared to be a part of the Cypriot mentality that means people only obey laws if they think they are either sensible or likely to be enforced. Driving to Polis to shop at 06.45 in the morning and the coast road was akin to a Grand Prix.
I like to feel we have dealt with this curfew well and we have behaved sensibly. And, of course, we enjoy our own company which is a bonus. We are experimenting with all sorts of cooking and the shelf of Jamie Oliver cookbooks is being delved into more than we might have expected. We also set ourselves a target of not wasting any food at all, and so all sorts of leftovers are being recruited for experimental cookery.
As the weather becomes warmer then the easier it will be for us to enjoy having “fun in the sun” which was our raison d’être in moving to this beautiful island. It should be warm enough to swim in the pool in about five to six weeks, and that will be a daily pleasure until October. I trust that by then the restrictions will be lifted but in my heart of hearts I fear it will be more like this time next year before life returns to something like normalcy.
Businesses (especially anything related to the tourist industry) may not survive and others may struggle for years to come. Tourism requires trust and many people will not willingly step onto an aircraft or board a cruise liner for a long, long time. But, with optimism and sense, mankind will come through this crisis.
Sunday, 29 March 2020
Self-isolation ...
We decided, before the Cyprus government made its lockdown decision, that we would self-isolate as we are in the age group that is deemed vulnerable. Since that time we have shopped twice (larger shops than we normally do), been to the pharmacy once to collect medication, and I have walked Daisy most days. We have also made a couple of visits to our local nursery, which Ann decided were essential. In order to legally leave the house, we text a government service and receive permission about twenty seconds later. When we are out, we must have the mobile phone with the text message on, and our passports.
Do we feel this is draconian? Not a bit ... if the virus is to be survived then certain freedoms need to be temporarily removed. Are we bored? Not really. When the sun shines, and we sit outside by the pool, then that’s what we would normally be doing. Our cookbooks are scoured for all sorts of dishes we have not tried before, and YouTube videos are devoured - which makes us hungry.
We listen to music most of the time and have dipped into all sorts of tv programmes. The bar has been known to open at odd times of the day. A friend in the UK posted something which suggested half the people would become much better in the kitchen and the other half would develop a drink problem. How true.
Do we feel this is draconian? Not a bit ... if the virus is to be survived then certain freedoms need to be temporarily removed. Are we bored? Not really. When the sun shines, and we sit outside by the pool, then that’s what we would normally be doing. Our cookbooks are scoured for all sorts of dishes we have not tried before, and YouTube videos are devoured - which makes us hungry.
We listen to music most of the time and have dipped into all sorts of tv programmes. The bar has been known to open at odd times of the day. A friend in the UK posted something which suggested half the people would become much better in the kitchen and the other half would develop a drink problem. How true.
Sunday, 22 March 2020
What can I add?
I have thought long and hard about blogging, with the COVID19 pandemic circling the world. I grieve at the news from countries I have visited and loved, and always have to keep an eye on what is happening in my homeland - the UK.
I watch the news broadcasts and YouTube videos of (in the main) younger Britons behaving badly in foreign lands. They congregate and get drunk, they disobey the rules of the country they are in - and bring shame on the rest of us. London and the big cities are under the spotlight and I watch with incredulity at the behaviour of (mainly) young people who are acting as if this is all some sort of game.
Panic buying seems to be a particularly British phenomenon. The long queues from early in the morning, the storming of the supermarkets and the stupid, inane, stockpiling going on beggars belief. I can see martial law, and rationing, and a host of other draconian restrictions being imposed by a “liberal” Tory government. And these people will have brought this on themselves.
Cyprus remains calm, with the government closing our borders, all flights have stopped and everyone has had a text message from the Ministry of Health forbidding unnecessary travel. Almost everything has closed down and only essential stores remain open - supermarkets, kiosks, petrol stations, pharmacies and business selling takeaway food which can be delivered. Self-help groups have sprung up all over the place, pledging to deliver food and medication to those who should not or cannot leave home.
What have we done? Nine days ago we decided to self-isolate for the sake of our health. We shopped well but sensibly (no shortages here), and locked our gates. We had to let our lovely Filipino cleaner go, but have maintained our pool man. We leave the house to collect medication and to buy fresh vegetables, milk and other essentials. We are isolated of course and it is easier to be content with our lovely house, garden and pool (once we get to May). For the rest we have always been happiest with each other’s company, but miss our friends and social life.
I can’t see matters improving until this time next year at the earliest and trust you all remain safe and well.
I watch the news broadcasts and YouTube videos of (in the main) younger Britons behaving badly in foreign lands. They congregate and get drunk, they disobey the rules of the country they are in - and bring shame on the rest of us. London and the big cities are under the spotlight and I watch with incredulity at the behaviour of (mainly) young people who are acting as if this is all some sort of game.
Panic buying seems to be a particularly British phenomenon. The long queues from early in the morning, the storming of the supermarkets and the stupid, inane, stockpiling going on beggars belief. I can see martial law, and rationing, and a host of other draconian restrictions being imposed by a “liberal” Tory government. And these people will have brought this on themselves.
Cyprus remains calm, with the government closing our borders, all flights have stopped and everyone has had a text message from the Ministry of Health forbidding unnecessary travel. Almost everything has closed down and only essential stores remain open - supermarkets, kiosks, petrol stations, pharmacies and business selling takeaway food which can be delivered. Self-help groups have sprung up all over the place, pledging to deliver food and medication to those who should not or cannot leave home.
What have we done? Nine days ago we decided to self-isolate for the sake of our health. We shopped well but sensibly (no shortages here), and locked our gates. We had to let our lovely Filipino cleaner go, but have maintained our pool man. We leave the house to collect medication and to buy fresh vegetables, milk and other essentials. We are isolated of course and it is easier to be content with our lovely house, garden and pool (once we get to May). For the rest we have always been happiest with each other’s company, but miss our friends and social life.
I can’t see matters improving until this time next year at the earliest and trust you all remain safe and well.
Sunday, 16 February 2020
Wood, wood, wood ...
We have been well-served with firewood for our log burner over the last fourteen months and Andreas would arrive at out house with one or two cubic metres of lemonwood, stack it all beautifully and at a good price. Imagine our surprise when I asked him for a delivery and he told me he was out of stock until September. In the end he managed a final cubic metre and we were set for the cold weather forecast.
To be on the safe side we decided to order wood from another source, only to be told they were out of stock as well. Our local pub, which has a log burner, were also told their local supplier was out of stock. It has been a long winter.
And so, eventually after some research, we found that the supplier of our log burner sold wood. It turns out that they sell “kiln dried” oak logs. Slightly more expensive but we determined we would not be cold. Delivery took a couple of hours and a large builder’s bag of oak arrived and was placed delicately on our drive.
You cannot believe our experience with this wood. It burned hotter and hotter (so much more than the seasoned lemonwood we had been so pleased with), it burned more slowly and - by the end of the evening - we had burned about half of what we normally use
So two things for those who follow our great adventure. Cypriot houses in winter are cold and damp, so install a good log burner. And buy kiln-dried wood ... and you will be as warm as toast. Roll on the summer.
To be on the safe side we decided to order wood from another source, only to be told they were out of stock as well. Our local pub, which has a log burner, were also told their local supplier was out of stock. It has been a long winter.
And so, eventually after some research, we found that the supplier of our log burner sold wood. It turns out that they sell “kiln dried” oak logs. Slightly more expensive but we determined we would not be cold. Delivery took a couple of hours and a large builder’s bag of oak arrived and was placed delicately on our drive.
You cannot believe our experience with this wood. It burned hotter and hotter (so much more than the seasoned lemonwood we had been so pleased with), it burned more slowly and - by the end of the evening - we had burned about half of what we normally use
So two things for those who follow our great adventure. Cypriot houses in winter are cold and damp, so install a good log burner. And buy kiln-dried wood ... and you will be as warm as toast. Roll on the summer.
Saturday, 8 February 2020
Windchill ...
It has been ever so slightly chilly in the last few days, and it has actually been quite a cold winter so far. With overnight temperatures forecast to fall to 1°C this weekend we are not actually planning to go far. This morning when we woke up I got out of a warm bed (electric blanket on overnight setting, and with the heavy duvet on the bed) to do one or two things. Additional heat was supplied by Daisy, who had snuggled up between us and Honey (who thought lying on my feet was quite the thing to do). I came out of the bedroom and it was cold. As regular readers of this blog know, Cypriot houses tend to have poor or no insulation, and the marble tiles on the floor don’t make things any warmer.
A plan of action was required ... and it involved heating the house and snuggling down. Food and drink were plentiful, the Six Nations’ Rugby was on television and we had plenty of wood with which to feed the log burner. So an expedition out to the log pile was decreed, whilst Ann sorted out kindling and cleaned the filter on the “ash vac”. And then into action to clean up the log burner, lay the fire and set it alight. Fifteen minutes later we were feeling warmer and are set for the day.
Breakfast was sliced avocado (from the avocado grove at the end of our track), toast (we are quite the millennials, you know) with a poached egg on top. A protein feast if ever there was one, and ClassicFM on the radio, and it’s only 10.30 in the morning. With “freezing” weather forecast we shall stay in the bunker until the “All Clear” is sounded.
The world seems to have gone quite mad with the news that Coronavirus has emerged from China, and a few hundred people have died. Desperately sad, but I read in the New York Times recently that ten thousand people died last winter in the USA from influenza. So a sense of overkill seems to be prevalent at the moment. I know Spanish Flu killed fifty million people after the First World War but there is a world of difference from that disaster to this event.
As my 67th birthday accelerates towards me, the death of Kirk Douglas (aged 103) made me stop and think. I have always joked that I intend to live forever, but then I considered what life must be like when you are that age. A friend of ours years ago commented on the fact that there were so many elderly expats on Cyprus, and that he saw another one every time he looked in the mirror. Food for thought methinks.
A plan of action was required ... and it involved heating the house and snuggling down. Food and drink were plentiful, the Six Nations’ Rugby was on television and we had plenty of wood with which to feed the log burner. So an expedition out to the log pile was decreed, whilst Ann sorted out kindling and cleaned the filter on the “ash vac”. And then into action to clean up the log burner, lay the fire and set it alight. Fifteen minutes later we were feeling warmer and are set for the day.
Breakfast was sliced avocado (from the avocado grove at the end of our track), toast (we are quite the millennials, you know) with a poached egg on top. A protein feast if ever there was one, and ClassicFM on the radio, and it’s only 10.30 in the morning. With “freezing” weather forecast we shall stay in the bunker until the “All Clear” is sounded.
The world seems to have gone quite mad with the news that Coronavirus has emerged from China, and a few hundred people have died. Desperately sad, but I read in the New York Times recently that ten thousand people died last winter in the USA from influenza. So a sense of overkill seems to be prevalent at the moment. I know Spanish Flu killed fifty million people after the First World War but there is a world of difference from that disaster to this event.
As my 67th birthday accelerates towards me, the death of Kirk Douglas (aged 103) made me stop and think. I have always joked that I intend to live forever, but then I considered what life must be like when you are that age. A friend of ours years ago commented on the fact that there were so many elderly expats on Cyprus, and that he saw another one every time he looked in the mirror. Food for thought methinks.
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