Why are we here?

It would be something of an understatement to write that 2020 has been a difficult year for us, and billions of others on this planet. We have coped and adjusted and are fortunate to be in a situation where we can still enjoy “life” here in Cyprus. Restrictions come and go, and we abide by them. 

I found wearing a mask indoors to be very demanding and claustrophobic. It is mandatory and I very much wanted to shield Ann from having to do the shopping. But, a chance encounter, has made that particular problem much less so. On one of the expat forums of which I am a member, a lady (from whom we bought some garden furniture a few years ago) was extolling the virtues of a mask. It is called an HeiQ Viroblock Mask, and has been designed in Switzerland. It offers Antimicrobial properties and was found to be effective in protecting wearers from previous coronavirus epidemics. To cut a long story short I met Maggie and her husband and bought four masks from her (she had apparently bought a batch of twenty, not realising that they can be washed up to thirty times). This mask is triple-layered and the layer next to the face stays dry and is therefore comfortable to wear and to breathe through.

They are therefore ideal for us and I highly recommend them. You can see the details and buy them here ...

https://shop.heiq.com/collections/masks-available-in-eu/products/copy-of-heiq-viroblock-washable-mask-duopack-eu-uk

So we are as safe as we can be, and will take whatever precautions that we believe to be necessary. But Ann will stress, and she is right to do it, that we came to Cyprus to have “Fun in the Sun” and that is what we shall do. Now how many shopping days are there to Christmas?

Butcher, baker ...

 My skills as a baker have never been really utilised and Ann’s efforts to make scones over the last few months have been sabotaged by the oven’s inability to heat up to the correct temperature. When Andreas the engineer came to look at it, he told us that when set at 220°C the oven temperature was actually 150°C. No wonder our pizzas were soggy and Ann’s scones flat.

But help was at hand. The next day we had a new oven installed and we were itching to experiment. Scones were the order of the day, and the results were outstanding. In fact they were so good we took a batch down for the staff at the shop where we bought the oven. The evidence ...

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Is the end nigh?

 Despite the relative calm and tranquility in Cyprus, we see that the number of virus infections continue to rise - although at a containable rate for the moment. There are “clusters” in Limassol and Larnaca, and the government has brought in additional measures. The confusion in many commentators’ minds arises with the fallacious argument that “herd immunity” is desired ... or even possible. From all that I have read, the various antibodies and t-cells that infected people generate to protect themselves do not last long. If that is indeed the case, a vaccine would be equally ineffective for the same reasons.

Back in the UK, confusion and changing direction abound. When I heard the PM stating that a national lockdown would not happen (although you could always confuse the issue by calling it a “circuit-breaker) I immediately realised it was only a matter of time before there was not another rapid about-turn. This was the same man who described Liverpudlians as “seeing themselves whenever possible as victims”. I suspect his latest decision is unlikely to have a statue raised in his honour in Liverpool.

A triumph however at Castle Douglas. We bought a new oven on Tuesday (one where the temperature was as advertised) and Ann set out to bake some scones. She had tried valiantly over the months and - on each occasion - they were as flat as pancakes. On this occasion they rose and rose and rose, and were absolutely delicious. The engineer who fitted our oven told us that the old oven was heating to 150°C when it was set to 220°C. No wonder we had flat scones. A brilliant purchase ... we went to the shop on Tuesday morning and the new oven was fitted by 4.00 pm on the same day. That’s what I call service.

Out to try a new place for lunch after Ann has been to the hairdresser. And then, perhaps, a sit in the sunshine when we get home. Virus or not, life in Cyprus is good.

A lovely time of year ...

 I cannot decide whether autumn or spring are my favourite times of the year, as both have sublime weather. Now that October has arrived, the fierce heat of the last four months has subsided and temperatures are blissful. 2020’s summer was one of the hottest on record and Cypriots and expats suffered. But now, the days are warm, the breeze cooling and we can sleep with the air conditioning off.

But aware that our wood supplier ran out of supplies last winter we have taken delivery of our first two cubic metres of lemonwood. It was beautifully stacked by “the professor” (as Ann calls him), and we shall order another two cubic metres next month. Lemonwood burns beautifully and we shall top off our wood burner with kiln-dried oak, which burns slowly and very hot. Now that I think about it, when winter does arrive, there is something very comforting about lighting the stove and being cosy indoors. I suppose that is a byproduct of living outside for nine months of the year.

I don’t think we have had breakfast or dinner inside the house since May. And that is what we love about life on this beautiful island. And, of note to us, yesterday was the eighth anniversary of our arrival here in Cyprus. Although Ann has returned to England twice to see her daughter, I have not left the island. What an adventure it has been, and continues to be.

Intellectual vacuum ...

 Waking up this morning to the news from the UK that hospitality venues are to close at 10.00 pm from Thursday. And then the moronic Health Secretary, when asked, could not definitely say whether pubs and restaurants might be closed by the weekend. Left hand, right hand, joined-up thinking, strategic planning - all are absent in the intellectual vacuum that is the British Government.

One only needs to cast one’s mind back to the end of July when Boris was urging people to return to their offices, spend till you drop and then the Chancellor unveiled a package which encouraged people (but only people who could afford it) to “Eat out to help out”. This particular initiative took my breath away. Here one had the tax payer subsidising those who could afford to eat out to have cheaper food ... whilst at the same time food banks were reporting record demand from people on the breadline.

And then, after a month or six weeks of such largesse, with summer receding - the number of infections start to rise and keep rising. With schools and universities restarting, and people beginning to return to the office (in order to stop Pret A Manger and other over-priced sandwich sellers from going bust), it was revealed that testing in some areas was being rationed, as nobody had realised that infections might rise in the autumn.

If it wasn’t so tragic, it would be laughable. I don’t doubt for a second that our lovely dog, Daisy, could manage things better.

Cricket without the crowds ...

 Now that cricketers have stopped all the Black Lives Matter nonsense (at least the England and Australia teams have) I decided to watch the one-day international match on Thursday. It was good to get televised sport again - given our month-long exile from the internet - but what a strange experience. You could hear the gentle hum of conversation from the crowd, but there was no crowd.

I am watching another match this afternoon from a deserted Old Trafford and, in the background (ever so faintly) I could hear the gentle rhythm of a steel band. Someone at Sky was playing the wrong background noise. It made me appreciate how much live sport (when watched on television) relies on the atmosphere generated by the crowd.

Back on Fantasy Island (as I now think of the UK) and the dear old government have indeed lost the plot with both Brexit and the Covid-19 crisis. They are ruling by ministerial diktat without the Commons being allowed to participate. Ten million tests a day (compulsory, perhaps) and digital passports which will allow people to return to work, and be monitored all the time. I can just imagine a Covid Marshall (think John Wayne in a hi-vis jacket) confronting people and “Let me see your papers”.

A totalitarian nightmare awaits without a return to the Rule of Law and government by consent.

“Bye, Bye, Cyta, Goodbye”

 Well after eight years with Cyprus’ national telecoms company, it was time to say goodbye. Weeks and weeks have gone by and we have been fobbed off, lied to and ignored - and all the time they were collecting our direct debits. I pointed out to them that we had a contract with them. It was simple ... they connected us to the internet and we paid them. Well no more.

I contacted a local firm, highly recommended, and within a day they arrived, sorted out WiFi internet (a very steady 35 Mb download speed) and were done and dusted within an hour.  Cyta ironically emailed us to say that they “may” be able to get a team out to us next week, and once service was restored, they would investigate my complaint.

That was the final straw. The only problem we have is that our tv provider needs to fiddle about in Switzerland so that we can stream our programmes.

News from the UK amused us today with the announcement that “Covid Marshall” would patrol the streets to disperse groups of more than six people. They will have no powers of arrest, no powers to fine people and you can just imagine the indignation of people as yet another version of “Plastic Policemen” stride amongst them ...

Jesus wept ...