MEDITERRANEAN MEANDERINGS

13TH SEPTEMBER 2010

Well here I am back in the sunshine and once again (comparatively) pain free. Not only that but the dust cloud has dispersed with the brief rain shower we had in the night and the hills are looking glorious from my balcony. They are so clear you can actually pick out details. The last time I was able to see them this clearly was in the spring when they were green and lush. Now they look sandy and sparse, but still magnificent. The ruined luxury hotels of Famagusta/Varocha stand out in the foreground and all along the coast you can pick out coastal villages. I truly am very fortunate to live here. 

As expected I broke my heart saying goodbye to my cat again and arrived at Gatwick Airport looking like Alice Cooper. She is such a beautiful animal and I feel awful that all she gives me is unconditional love and I come and go as I please. I know she is very happy having gone into luxurious retirement at my mum’s, I would never have left her without knowing she had such a good home, but this doesn’t decrease my misery at not having her company, which is the best company in the world. She is completely undemanding, incredibly independent and highly affectionate. She just makes herself comfortable and assumes that you will do the same, which is very relaxing. However, as stated in previous blogs I would not have an animal in Cyprus. It would be entirely selfish of me to bring her out here just for my own gratification as that would not take into account her needs in any way. So I have to take responsibility for my decisions and know that the price for having all the other wonderful things in my life is to have a Parkin-free existence. 

At this point I really should put in an apology to my brother. We have always had a very easy relationship (well easy in that we get on, rather than easy on him being my brother – which as you can imagine is incredibly hard work!) and part of this has been due to the absolute silliness of which we are both capable. So when I found myself in his kitchen the other day and heard his key in the lock it was just second nature to clamber into a cupboard. Unfortunately the second I jumped out at him with a roar of triumph I remembered that he had been having palpitations recently. Luckily for me (and probably more importantly luckily for him) he didn't collapse, as my first aid training hasn’t been updated for many years. We got him to the pub next door and a glass of red wine perked him up a bit, although he later told me that it was about three days before his heart rate went down – as he has to check on the monitor-thingy he has. It was incredibly difficult for me as I didn’t know which to do: laugh or apologise, so I compromised by doing both profusely for hours. Still, it is a slight comeuppance for all the times he jumped out at me while I was in the middle of my panic attacks! Sadly, this doesn’t make me feel any better and I still feel guilty. Mind you we all have to make sacrifices to the art of comedy, although Danny would be quite a big sacrifice to make. 

Coming back from the Robert Plant gig last week (don’t worry this isn’t going to be another panegyric on Percy Plant) my train got me into Portslade station at about half one in the morning. There are no buses at this time of night so I walked back to my mum’s, which is about a fifty minute walk (on my short little legs anyway). It is quite a pleasant walk in the dark, but it made me realise how quickly we become used to things. As I was walking up the High Street out of Portslade Old Village I looked up and saw an animal ahead. My first thought was ‘oh, another stray dog’. It took me a nano-second to realise it was a fox and that you don’t have stray dogs wandering around in the UK. Stray dogs are something my brain has got very used to seeing, whereas foxes aren’t any more, so that was the immediate story I put to the picture. If it is true of something as minor as that, how often must we do that on a daily basis with other things in our lives? Just presuming that something is what we think it is rather than taking the time to look more closely and see what it actually is. 

The other thing that confused me briefly when I got back to the UK was toilet paper. In Cyprus the pipes aren’t wide enough for you to be able to flush toilet paper down the loo so you put it in a bin next to the toilet. When I got off the plane at Gatwick I was very tired and I found myself in the toilet turning around in circles wondering where the bin was for the paper until I realised that I could just flush it away. Conversely when I got back I had to make a concerted effort to remember not to do the opposite. Luckily the majority of ladies’ toilets in Cyprus have big signs up advising you not to flush any paper, so I didn’t have to think hard. Maybe that is something that we should start in the UK – signs that say: ‘Oy, Johnny Foreigner, it is perfectly acceptable to put your paper in the lavatory’. 

It was lovely to see everyone back in the UK and to have done all the things that I managed to do, but I am relieved to be back here in the warmth. Although it also has to be said that everyone here has said that I went back to the UK at the right time as they have had the hottest summer here in ages. Apparently it has been unbearable. On more than one occasion there was a 95% humidity reading. Buddhist Sue who was staying at my flat for a while said that when she got into the car, which is in a covered parking bay, the thermometer read 49°. When we left the meeting in Nicosia yesterday it was 41° in the car and people have been saying how much cooler it is this week. So it probably was good timing, as without a car I would not have been able to get anywhere in that sort of tropical intensity. 

On the last few nights before I left the UK the pain in my hip became agonising again. I got very little sleep, partly because I could not lie on it and partly because I spent most of the night getting up to reheat the hot cherry stone pillows, which I always find to be the best pain relief. I said to my mother that it was definitely time for me to be leaving the country as my body had started to react to winter being on its way in. Here in this heat, as I said at the start, I am more or less pain free again. I am happy with more or less, I don’t expect ever to be completely pain free, but being able to walk, lie down, stand and most importantly function is pretty brilliant as far as I am concerned. In fact, one of the things that I love most about living here is walking outside and feeling the air literally swallow you with heat. It is like being wrapped in someone’s very warm arms and I, personally, find it very comforting and comfortable – although I am aware it is not everyone’s cup of tea. The warmth, also surprisingly gives me more energy, as when I am cold I spend the whole time curled up just trying to get warm and to stop my body from hurting, which is actually exhausting. So I feel a good couple of inches taller here as I am not walking hunched in on myself trying to get every atom of warmth into my bones that I possibly can. And, possibly the most vital thing that the sunshine adds to my life, is that it makes me smile. I look at the sun outside the window and my body immediately responds with pleasure, which in turn makes my mind understand that today it is worth getting up. There is joy and beauty in the earth that I often seem to lose sight of in the greyness, which is the bane of my life. 

Another thing that is very nice is that Buddhist Sue has moved to Kapparis in my absence (although whether she will move out of it now that I am back remains to be seen!). This is lovely because it means that we are able to do things without having to worry how the other one is going to get back across the island. It also means that there is someone nearby with whom I can do Gongyo, which is always nicer when performed with someone. On Friday evening she invited Chris and I to be with her while she enshrined her Gohonzon (the Buddhist scroll upon which we focus when we chant) in her new house. This was delightful and it is always nice to chant in a new place because, whatever else you think it is or it does or does not do, it irrefutably lifts the energy in that place. So, it was nice to share that. She also cooked us a beautiful meal and we sat under the trees in her garden drinking wine in the warm Mediterranean evening. How civilised! Although if you had heard our conversation you probably wouldn’t think we were at all civilised, but the three of us always laugh a lot when we are together, and as you probably know by now, this is of the utmost importance to me. Sue’s house is absolutely charming and is only a 15 minute walk from my front door, so adventures await. 

My frogs are still chirruping away – I am now thinking that they must be a permanent fixture and that I only imagined they weren’t here for the first few months of my residence. Unfortunately the mosquitoes are also still here and I have nice bites all over my feet and ankles again, which seem to be their favourite feast. 

It was also really nice to meet up with all my friends in the Pin last night for the pub quiz and quite frankly, as always seems to be the case, it didn’t feel as though I had ever been away. I am still working on being able to share my life between here and Totnes as having been fortunate enough to find two places in the world that between them are able to fulfil the majority of my needs, it would seem to be sensible to make the most of that. 

So I am now going to see if I can even begin to shift the washing machine, as I have been trying on and off for hours now. It has stopped working and although the isolation switch is on, that doesn’t necessarily mean (apparently!) that the plug is working, but I am afraid that although I am healthier than I have been for many years, I have not turned into Wonder Woman overnight and my ability to lift large appliances is still pretty much nil. I think the agents are just going to have to send me an electrician anyway. 

So au revoir for now filis-mou. My quote this week is from Samuel Johnson: ‘He that will enjoy the brightness of sunshine, must quit the coolness of the shade.’ Absolutely right Mr. Johnson. We cannot expect to enjoy the fruits of anything without taking the inherent risks. To get the gorgeous tan you must have been prepared to burn. If we want to remain in the coolness of the shade then we have to be prepared to not moan about those people who are revelling in the sunshine. So, all you beautiful people, cast off your overcoats and come with me to dance in the sunshine and leave behind the shadows. Go on – you know you want to!