Storms in teacups …

 Gosh how sensitive some people are about opinions in blogs.

My blog is a self-confessed mixture of news about our life here in Cyprus, advice (over the years) for people wishing to follow in our footsteps - sadly much more difficult after the insanity of Brexit - and some occasionally acerbic observations relating to UK politicians of all political persuasions. My opinions are just that - opinions. Standard advice is always if you don’t like my opinions, try reading someone else’s blog instead.

That’s the great thing about my blog - it’s mine and nobody has any right to criticise it. I know full well not to libel anyone. Some years ago a friend took me to task about an opinion I expressed about the Greek Orthodox Church here in Cyprus. He had a point, which I acknowledged in the blog and that was that. Polite, civilised and neither of us were upset by his intervention.

At the present time my blog has been visited over 83,000 times since I started writing it. I make the not unreasonable assumption that I must be doing something right. It’s all about choice - mine and yours.

I may have mentioned I am diabetic. The specialist looking after me asked me to visit an ophthalmologist to have my eyes checked for any damage. Ann had visited a very good ophthalmologist in Paphos but I wanted to avoid yet another drive there. I asked for advice at Polis Medical Centre and the wonderfully helpful Mary recommended Dr Katerina Stylianidou in Polis. I made an appointment with her under GESY. What an inspirational and gentle lady. I spent an hour with her. Her expertise and professionalism was so reassuring. Everything was explained. The only problem she found was the beginnings of cataracts in both eyes, which would eventually require intervention. No surprise there at my age. €6 well spent. If you need to see an ophthalmologist I highly recommend her.

The storm in the teacup to which I referred to related to me passing an opinion on a local pub. Briefly I stated “…our two subsequent visits were not auspicious. No doubt time will tell.” Not auspicious means not favourable or not conducive to success. And then the next sentence states unequivocally that time will tell.

And that, dear reader, is what I meant. I bear no ill will to the bar, its new managers or its customers. I passed an honestly held opinion. Good luck to the bar in the future. It would be lovely to see it flourish.

Running a pub is no cakewalk as Ann and I know. In England we ran a village pub together, then I took on an incredibly busy vodka bar in the Old Town in Hastings. After that Ann managed a large hotel, and I ran the bar and was a general dogsbody. None of it would have been possible without the intense training we received at the hands of Greene King. Without that training we would have been the worst of all things - amateurs in a competitive and busy world.

And that is that for today.

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/

It’s been some time but …

 Well the last three months have been different - but not necessarily in a good way. There seems to have been no time for anything since Ann broke her hip in a fall at home. What a thing to happen. The nine day stay at Paphos Hospital was a mixture of the very good and the very bad, and I was never so glad to see the ambulance drive up to bring her home.

Ann has been incredibly brave and determined in the last three and a half months. On the credit side she was operated on by a brilliant surgeon whose skills were obvious once the monthly X-rays were taken. The plate and screws could not have been placed more accurately. Recovery was helped by an excellent physiotherapist from Polis, who visited us twice a week before Christmas. Since then Ann has made weekly visits to his clinic and the improvement is so noticeable.

The wheelchair has been returned to the medical centre, the walking frame is now in storage at home and the walking sick makes the occasional guest appearance. I am full of admiration for my darling wife, who has achieved so much in such a short time.

The end of winter is fast approaching and today is blue skies and warm sunshine. We have kept ourselves comfortable and dry at home thanks to a combination of log deliveries from “The Professor”, whose stacking skills are legendary, and to the installation of two modern air conditioning units (air inverter) in the bedroom and living area. They are quiet, much more efficient and cost less to run than the two units that were replaced. 

Our team to help us in the house and garden is now complete. Our super pool man has been with us for about four years now and the pool is always sparkling and healthy. Sadly our remarkable gardener (and general odd-job man) left Cyprus to return home, and has then moved to the USA. How we miss Gerald and his wife. But our new gardening team from Sri Lanka are outstanding, and I have never seen gardeners work as fast or as efficiently. And our new cleaner is from the same mould - works from the moment she arrives and does not stop. Ann is delighted.

The landlord of our local pub died unexpectedly a couple of weeks ago, which saddened us. He was a guy who never said “No” when you asked for help or a favour. His widow has handed the management of the pub to another couple but our two subsequent visits were not auspicious. No doubt time will tell.

Life here in Cyprus can become a prolonged exercise in navel gazing, whilst parts of the world go to hell in a handcart. The appalling events in Gaza occupy the television screens and newspaper columns, with Ukraine lurking just left of centre. The barbarity and cruelty of man is plain for all to see. The news from the UK suggests a country that is broken, and lawless - without hope of redemption. And the knee jerk reaction of decent people is what feeds the lurch to an authoritarian right wing.

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/

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 …