MEDITERRANEAN MEANDERINGS
7TH JANUARY 2010
I am looking particularly attractive today as I have got a mosquito bite on the end of my nose. It is the only part of my body that was outside of the covers and they made a real feast of it! I look like an old inebriate!
I am now Scruffy-less. She has just left to go home and I feel a queer mixture of sadness and relief. She is such a beautiful dog and she has been fab company, but it will be nice to get on with my life again. It has also made me realise that one pet cannot replace another. Despite Scruffy being lovely in her own right, she is not my Parkin and I have really missed Parkin’s company as I have seen it contrasted against another.
I have been spending a lot of my time this week in gratitude. Having heard from so many of you over the past few days about the weather I am so overwhelmingly grateful that I am not in the UK for the coldest and darkest winter to arrive for years. I am saying thank you to everything just in case – The Universe, God, Aphrodite, Lady Luck and most of all my own sheer bloody-mindedness for determining that I wouldn’t spend another winter in Britain and somehow by hook and by crook making it happen.
Once again my week has mostly consisted of walking around Kapparis with that rascal Scruffy, but it is amazing the things you notice in a small place. It really seems like Spring here, which is odd as winter in Cyprus is normally at its (comparative) worst in January and February, so it hasn’t really arrived thus far. Yet there are tiny purple flowers blooming underfoot all over the waste ground and butterflies everywhere. If you are scared of ‘creepy crawlies’ this is not the place to be; the hugest black beetles I have ever seen scamper back and forth beneath the brush and indoors I can only describe some of the creatures I have seen as primordial! The farms are in constant flux – there doesn’t seem to be a specific ‘Harvest time’ as there is produce to harvest all the time. (Do excuse me I have to keep stopping to scratch my nose!) I am sure that the farmer who has the fields just below my balcony will be relieved that he doesn’t have to be barked at every time he comes to feed the rabbits now! The trouble is as he arrives so do all the stray cats, as they know he will also leave some food for them and poor Scruffy would get in a real tizz watching them. Unfortunately, cats are incredibly intelligent and within no time they worked out that she could not get down from the balcony and they would prance up and down on the wall taunting her. I tried to explain to Scruffy that she was being teased, but she wasn’t having any of it.
As we were walking down to the beach at the bottom of the road a few days ago something made me look at the numbers on the houses. It hadn’t occurred to me before but houses are numbered sequentially here rather than odd one side and even the other. Now I have no opinion (are you sure I hear you cry) on which is ‘better’ or ‘worse’ but it is now puzzling me why we do this. I am sure there is a perfectly logical reason for having odd and even numbers on different sides of the road and I would love to know what it is if any of you can tell me.
We have had some strong winds here recently and this has led to some strange noises which I noticed whilst taking Scruffy for her bedtime perambulation. There were some very deep and mournful groanings coming from the waste ground, such that could lead to myths of the black beasts of Dartmoor having arrived with me. As I got closer I realized that these were coming from some loose metal signs (saying appropriately ‘Do not enter’, which I had certainly never taken the slightest bit of notice of before and neither has anyone else). Coming from the farmer’s fields there were also peculiar, whilst strangely regular, tormented sighings. There are tall metal windmills in most of the fields which are used to generate electricity and the wind was catching their rusty sails faster than the usual breeze ever does, making them groan and struggle as they span. Luckily Scruffy and I refused to let ourselves be ruffled by such supernatural shenanigans and we returned home in one piece.
The wind also meant that the bay saw many ships coming in to shelter overnight. I always love seeing the sea full of ships, even if they are just cargo and container vessels. Only one was sheltering on our side of the bay, but there were many in Northern Cypriot waters. What a strange phrase that is – how can water belong to anyone? The very movement of the sea defies its ownership, no matter how Canute-like you think you are. Yet another of my issues with territory there I think!
Going back to my blog of last week, Scruffy and I did indeed commence our invasion of Northern Cyprus - unintentional though it was at the time. I decided that we should wander back down towards the border and see just how far we would have to go before we could get across. We reached a place where there was a lookout tower, all decorated in a pretty camouflage that is so last century! This was surrounded by barbed wire and there was a sign that said ‘Stop’ but this had been moved to the side of the road, so we blithely carried on. A little further down the road we reached a sign where the English translation read ‘No photography’. That’s ok, I thought, I don’t have a camera. Underneath this it then proclaimed ‘Unauthorised Personnel only’. Great, thunk I, I am certainly unauthorised and I don’t remember Larry and Margaret saying that Scruffy had any official role with the Republic of Cyprus Militia, so we carried on. Sadly, this only brought us to the middle of a farm. As blasé as I may be about International borders I would not knowingly trample on a hard-working man’s crops, so I turned back. On Monday we wandered down the same track and the lookout tower was brimming with men with rifles – gosh guns really make me respect people! – and we could get no further, although they did not take the blindest bit of notice of me and were certainly not threatening. So, I guess that we had invaded on their day off. As I turned back up the track I saw what all the soldiers had been on the lookout for – the pizza delivery man sped by on his moped and I am pretty sure they didn’t shoot him.
Yesterday I got the Biggest Prannet of 2010 (already) Award. Scruff and I had gone to the shops to get some bits and pieces for her family who were flying in late last night. On the way back we were followed all the way by a stray dog and so I was a bit worried. We got to Scruffy’s house and I let us in, put the milk in the fridge and thought I would just go and check the post box (these are always situated centrally in each complex). I pulled the door to behind me so that the stray dog wouldn’t get in while I was away and then realized I had left the key next to the fridge! Poor Scruffy was in there with no water! (Sorry still scratching my nose!) I rang Larry and Margaret in the UK, feeling terribly guilty as being two hours ahead here they were probably still in bed and desperately explained (amidst streams of apologies) what I had done. Luckily one of the men on the complex had a spare key and I got in and retrieved Scruffy and the key. The stray dog had got bored by this point and run off – I wish I could have! I never cease to amaze myself at just how dense I can be.
There is not a lot else to say about this first week of the new decade, except that whilst doing some more work on the Enneagram I came across a description of me that is probably the most apt thing I have ever read. It is always quite scary to be completely confronted by yourself. I don’t know if any of you are aware of the Enneagram but I am a Number 2, with all the positive and negative traits that entails (although now I am faced with the negative ones I am trying to work on them I promise). The key premise was that those who are ‘lucky’ enough to be 2s are very similar to cats, in that they are extremely affectionate, but supremely independent. That may not seem much on the surface, but when you begin to look at all the layers of damage that can come from that behaviour it is quite humbling. There are also good things about being like that, but we tend to only know ourselves through our faults.
So au revoir my beautiful people, who between you span the Enneagram in its entirety, filling my life with a rainbow of amazing individuals.
7TH JANUARY 2010
I am looking particularly attractive today as I have got a mosquito bite on the end of my nose. It is the only part of my body that was outside of the covers and they made a real feast of it! I look like an old inebriate!
I am now Scruffy-less. She has just left to go home and I feel a queer mixture of sadness and relief. She is such a beautiful dog and she has been fab company, but it will be nice to get on with my life again. It has also made me realise that one pet cannot replace another. Despite Scruffy being lovely in her own right, she is not my Parkin and I have really missed Parkin’s company as I have seen it contrasted against another.
I have been spending a lot of my time this week in gratitude. Having heard from so many of you over the past few days about the weather I am so overwhelmingly grateful that I am not in the UK for the coldest and darkest winter to arrive for years. I am saying thank you to everything just in case – The Universe, God, Aphrodite, Lady Luck and most of all my own sheer bloody-mindedness for determining that I wouldn’t spend another winter in Britain and somehow by hook and by crook making it happen.
Once again my week has mostly consisted of walking around Kapparis with that rascal Scruffy, but it is amazing the things you notice in a small place. It really seems like Spring here, which is odd as winter in Cyprus is normally at its (comparative) worst in January and February, so it hasn’t really arrived thus far. Yet there are tiny purple flowers blooming underfoot all over the waste ground and butterflies everywhere. If you are scared of ‘creepy crawlies’ this is not the place to be; the hugest black beetles I have ever seen scamper back and forth beneath the brush and indoors I can only describe some of the creatures I have seen as primordial! The farms are in constant flux – there doesn’t seem to be a specific ‘Harvest time’ as there is produce to harvest all the time. (Do excuse me I have to keep stopping to scratch my nose!) I am sure that the farmer who has the fields just below my balcony will be relieved that he doesn’t have to be barked at every time he comes to feed the rabbits now! The trouble is as he arrives so do all the stray cats, as they know he will also leave some food for them and poor Scruffy would get in a real tizz watching them. Unfortunately, cats are incredibly intelligent and within no time they worked out that she could not get down from the balcony and they would prance up and down on the wall taunting her. I tried to explain to Scruffy that she was being teased, but she wasn’t having any of it.
As we were walking down to the beach at the bottom of the road a few days ago something made me look at the numbers on the houses. It hadn’t occurred to me before but houses are numbered sequentially here rather than odd one side and even the other. Now I have no opinion (are you sure I hear you cry) on which is ‘better’ or ‘worse’ but it is now puzzling me why we do this. I am sure there is a perfectly logical reason for having odd and even numbers on different sides of the road and I would love to know what it is if any of you can tell me.
We have had some strong winds here recently and this has led to some strange noises which I noticed whilst taking Scruffy for her bedtime perambulation. There were some very deep and mournful groanings coming from the waste ground, such that could lead to myths of the black beasts of Dartmoor having arrived with me. As I got closer I realized that these were coming from some loose metal signs (saying appropriately ‘Do not enter’, which I had certainly never taken the slightest bit of notice of before and neither has anyone else). Coming from the farmer’s fields there were also peculiar, whilst strangely regular, tormented sighings. There are tall metal windmills in most of the fields which are used to generate electricity and the wind was catching their rusty sails faster than the usual breeze ever does, making them groan and struggle as they span. Luckily Scruffy and I refused to let ourselves be ruffled by such supernatural shenanigans and we returned home in one piece.
The wind also meant that the bay saw many ships coming in to shelter overnight. I always love seeing the sea full of ships, even if they are just cargo and container vessels. Only one was sheltering on our side of the bay, but there were many in Northern Cypriot waters. What a strange phrase that is – how can water belong to anyone? The very movement of the sea defies its ownership, no matter how Canute-like you think you are. Yet another of my issues with territory there I think!
Going back to my blog of last week, Scruffy and I did indeed commence our invasion of Northern Cyprus - unintentional though it was at the time. I decided that we should wander back down towards the border and see just how far we would have to go before we could get across. We reached a place where there was a lookout tower, all decorated in a pretty camouflage that is so last century! This was surrounded by barbed wire and there was a sign that said ‘Stop’ but this had been moved to the side of the road, so we blithely carried on. A little further down the road we reached a sign where the English translation read ‘No photography’. That’s ok, I thought, I don’t have a camera. Underneath this it then proclaimed ‘Unauthorised Personnel only’. Great, thunk I, I am certainly unauthorised and I don’t remember Larry and Margaret saying that Scruffy had any official role with the Republic of Cyprus Militia, so we carried on. Sadly, this only brought us to the middle of a farm. As blasé as I may be about International borders I would not knowingly trample on a hard-working man’s crops, so I turned back. On Monday we wandered down the same track and the lookout tower was brimming with men with rifles – gosh guns really make me respect people! – and we could get no further, although they did not take the blindest bit of notice of me and were certainly not threatening. So, I guess that we had invaded on their day off. As I turned back up the track I saw what all the soldiers had been on the lookout for – the pizza delivery man sped by on his moped and I am pretty sure they didn’t shoot him.
Yesterday I got the Biggest Prannet of 2010 (already) Award. Scruff and I had gone to the shops to get some bits and pieces for her family who were flying in late last night. On the way back we were followed all the way by a stray dog and so I was a bit worried. We got to Scruffy’s house and I let us in, put the milk in the fridge and thought I would just go and check the post box (these are always situated centrally in each complex). I pulled the door to behind me so that the stray dog wouldn’t get in while I was away and then realized I had left the key next to the fridge! Poor Scruffy was in there with no water! (Sorry still scratching my nose!) I rang Larry and Margaret in the UK, feeling terribly guilty as being two hours ahead here they were probably still in bed and desperately explained (amidst streams of apologies) what I had done. Luckily one of the men on the complex had a spare key and I got in and retrieved Scruffy and the key. The stray dog had got bored by this point and run off – I wish I could have! I never cease to amaze myself at just how dense I can be.
There is not a lot else to say about this first week of the new decade, except that whilst doing some more work on the Enneagram I came across a description of me that is probably the most apt thing I have ever read. It is always quite scary to be completely confronted by yourself. I don’t know if any of you are aware of the Enneagram but I am a Number 2, with all the positive and negative traits that entails (although now I am faced with the negative ones I am trying to work on them I promise). The key premise was that those who are ‘lucky’ enough to be 2s are very similar to cats, in that they are extremely affectionate, but supremely independent. That may not seem much on the surface, but when you begin to look at all the layers of damage that can come from that behaviour it is quite humbling. There are also good things about being like that, but we tend to only know ourselves through our faults.
So au revoir my beautiful people, who between you span the Enneagram in its entirety, filling my life with a rainbow of amazing individuals.
Always vivid, vivacious, a great read!
ReplyDeleteLove,
Evelyn xxx