Day 50: A Welcome Visit

This morning the frost was once again covering everything, everywhere.  I was hoping to go out and take photos of it, but by the time I got out for my walk, the frost of this morning had become the water-droplets of this afternoon.   The air was cold, harsh against my skin.  All the frost and snow have melted, and there is a great deal of brown everywhere.  But I saw the first buds on the trees beginning to open! So that was exciting.  Spring is still coming, in case you thought perhaps it wasn't.

Today is day 50.  I was thinking it should probably have some sort of immense significance, and looked back at days 10, 20, 30, and 40.  They seemed to me to be a bit more 'significant' in a way:

Day 10 - Snow Feathers.  I never will forget the beauty of these incredible patterns in snow.

Day 20 - Handing Round Gifts.  What a joy that was, to show up like Father Christmas on everyone's doorsteps!

Day 30 - A Thief And A Robber.  The day I stole into the Kourion Theatre in Cyprus, leaping over the stone wall...only to find that everyone else had done the same thing.

Day 40 - Walking on Ice.  This was a dangerous day!  Nearly fell several times, and went out in spite of severe cold and many reasons not to go!

Today was, in comparison, fairly 'normal'.  I worked in the morning, met with a couple who are getting married next year, tidied the house, wrote a new post on my photography blog There's Beauty Everywhere, and went to visit one of the older members in the church who is housebound.  I guess in some ways that can seem like it's not very substantial, or significant, or important.  And yet, probably one of the most important parts of today was this visit.  To an older woman who is kept to her home and primarily her living-room chair, who has a few visitors here and there but some days spends all day just reading or watching tv, I suppose it was a great day.  Her hearing aid didn't work, so I wrote notes to her on the back of the paper we found lying about, and she made jokes and I laughed and she laughed and we defied old age to prevent us having a great time.

Yes, on second thought I'd say, it was a pretty momentous day.

Walk length:  20 minutes

Day 40: Walking on Ice

As much as I would like to be walking on sunshine, today I was walking on ice.  Everything looked fairly clear, roads free of snow, only a few bits here and there on the grass, frozen solid.  But I hadn't taken a few steps before I realised the path's treachery.  I felt like I was about to go swooping up, feet first, and land on my bum at any moment.  But once I got into my (careful) stride, I was able to move a bit more swiftly.  Never too swiftly, because any time I felt confident there would suddenly be a very slick patch of ice, and I had to look down a lot - but otherwise a normal winter's walk!  I did pass a section of pavement where there were spread out little patches of ice that looked very much like small bear-tracks.  Apparently a small bear has been walking around. 

I've decided that I am an anomaly.  Everyone else out walking has one of four purposes.  One, they're out walking the dog.  Two, they're going to the shop or some other destination.  Three, they're going for a run.  Or four (in nicer weather) they're out with a friend or partner for a catch up or a wander.  Nobody is in my category, I don't think.  (Walking simply to walk, and enjoy or at least experience the weather.)  I discovered this too when I was in Cyprus, going for walks with my camera equipment on my back.  There were couples everywhere.  People out running.  Families on holiday.  But a single person on their own with no defined destination?...Very odd.  I kind of like being an anomaly.  It's the pale version of a rebel.  Perhaps soon I will graduate to the next level.

One man shook his head as I passed.  "Terrible weather, isn't it?" he said.  I think he was shocked into almost standing still when I said, "No, I think it's all right!"  As I cheerfully walked on I heard him mutter to himself, "All right?  All RIGHT?" and probably a few epithets it was best I didn't hear.  The funny thing was, I think I passed him again on my way home, but I was concentrating so hard on my feet and not slipping on the ice that I missed my opportunity to say, "Terrible weather, isn't it?" and really give him a strange day.  I also considered, as I walked, telling him that he must have met my twin sister earlier, as she was out for a walk too.  This could become great fun.  On days when I feel positive and cheerful I can be me, and on grumpy days I can be...Phoebe.  Or Greta.  That sounds like a grumpy name.

Just as I got (carefully) back to my estate, a boy passed me running at top speeds.  I love the enthusiasm of a ten year old (or thereabouts).  Here I was being cautious and ensuring that I didn't walk too fast, and this boy was running, literally full out, to wherever he was going.  Now that's enthusiasm.  Being me today, I salute that!  (Greta would not approve.)

Walk length: 40 minutes

Day 36: Mackenzy Beach

Last day in Cyprus.  It's a bit strange having a flight in early afternoon - enough time to do something, but by the time you realise this you have very little left.  Or perhaps I was just in going-home-mode in my mind.  I did get down to Mackenzy Beach for a short walk - the air milder than it had been, the water so many colours of blue, little umbrellas like bamboo beach hats stuck on poles all along the dark sand.  Even the water didn't feel that cold, although I didn't try going in.  I'm looking forward to coming home.  Even with the cold and ice and rain, there truly is no place in the world like Scotland. 

Day 35: A Glorious Lack of Guardrails

 Woke up to clear blue skies and - could it be? - a hint of warmth in the air.  My experience of Cyprus By Winter has been surprisingly chilly - although I fully expect it to warm up the day after I leave.  But today was a late gift, and I enjoyed wandering along the harbour at Aiya Napa (complete with strolling kitties who wound around my ankles and purred like little machines when I petted them).  Later I found funny a lady who stopped in her own walk to enjoy two small birds walking across her way, until I realised that my enjoyment of these cats probably looked similar to the Cypriots.  Just part of the landscape.  I enjoyed all the blue and white of the harbour, and then went on to the sea caves for a walk along the edge of the rocks, taking great joy in the absence of barriers or guardrails, making it feel , as a friend put it, "like you are the first person to discover it".  I did have a second stalker experience here, but it is conceivable that this one genuinely wanted to point out good photo opportunities, as he spoke very little English and gave up after I showed little enthusiasm for following him to a hidden cave.  Strangely enough, after he rounded the corner he disappeared completely, which was very odd!

As the sun began to set, I drove up to Cape Greco, up a winding dirt road which was, if possible, worse than the road to the sea caves.  I gloried in the 4x4 truck my firends have loaned me here.  I think I will buy one - they're terribly handy!  I wandered up the path to watch the sun set at the Cape, and passed several ladies holding bouquets of picked wildflowers.  One couple I passed was in a friendly argument, the man careering all over the hillside rooting out a massive bunch of flowers for his lady, who seemed slightly pleased but embarrassed that he was picking so many.  "You need to save them for Nature," she said, and her man responded, "for Rachel? who's Rachel?" and continued picking.  "You see, where there are ten flowers, I pick only three," he explained, leaping from flower bunch to flower bunch, dashing left and then right.  "Leaving seven for...Nature!"  He beamed cheerfully and dashed across the path to pick more.  I think his mathematics would be more effective if he was the only one picking flowers, but there certainly seemed many to choose from. 

After the sunset, I returned to Larnaka and went for a very good meal at Art Cafe 1900, a French restaurant with every variety of photo and painting and artistic representation plastered on the walls until there was very little room for wall at all.  There were little blue tables and white tablecloths that looked like something out of a French farmhouse, and meals served on blue and white dishes in the same vein.  They generously gave us a miniature glass of dessert wine afterwards, which for me was just the right amount.  We went back down the stairs past a bar that had been completely empty three hours previously, and now was so crowded we could barely push through, and the air filled with smoke.  We wandered the seafront and then the streets, and I enjoyed the lights strung across the buildings, loosely, as though just flung there.  Every street was deserted and the air was warm...it was beautiful. 

Walk length:  1.5 hours

Day 34: What Is A Walk?

Today I realised that some of my 'walks' have been more like wandering around in the normal business of life rather than a proper, get-on-the-trainers-walk-smartly action that I was endeavouring with this blog.  So, I walked twice today.  Once was shopping in Larnaka, which was the one I wasn't sure counted.  I did walk , but there was so much in-and-out of shops, dawdling, tryings-on in dressing rooms, that I thought I'd try again later.  Typically, when I decided to go a nice beach walk, it started raining. And it was a funny sort of raining - off to my left the sky was clear, with the sun beginning to set, colouring the clouds with pinks and purples.  But above my head it was dark grey and soaking me rather quickly!  I finally gave up, disgruntled, and went back to the car, but by the time I got anywhere the rain had stopped so not to be defeated, I tried again.  This time I got the full glory of the sunset, and enjoyed wandering up and down the beach capturing it.  Unfortunately someone else was enjoying it too, and a very friendly man (a little TOO friendly) began following me about, offering to 'help' with my photo-taking.  I think he imagined himself a feature character.  I refused, I hope graciously, but he was undaunted.  I found myself wondering where the sheer determination comes from. Every signal given out shouted 'Leave me alone', but he seemed to read it as 'Please come nearer, and ask many personal questions'.  Fortunately I was meeting Kait for coffee (answering the questions of "What are you doing later? Tonight? Now?") and greeted her with great rapture when she showed up. 

Now that I think about it, I find it slightly amusing that despite being trailed by creepy stalker-man, I carried on taking photos ("the cat, look, you can see him better over here"), climbing over rocks ("Do you need help?" - "No, thanks" - "Well, maybe I need some help"), and capturing the sunset ("It's a beautiful night, isn't it?").  I refused to be deterred from capturing the beauty I had worked so hard to be near!

Walk length: 20 minutes

Day 33: Yo Quiero Taco Bell

The other day I was driving through Limassol on my way towards Paphos, and saw a billboard for Taco Bell.  I very nearly stopped my touring/photography drive to spend hours searching for it, but I wisely waited until I could come back with someone who knew where it was.  We went in a group today to 'My Mall' (in funny order on the sign reads more like 'MMLYAL'), and thence to Taco Bell.  After filling up on chalupas and gorditas and burritos and "nachos" (tortilla crisps), we wandered around the mall for a little shopping, a little browsing, watching the ice skaters fall and pick themselves up again.  Suddenly I looked around and realised that every person without exception was dressed very nicely.  Very posh. I felt incredibly dingy and a bit of a mess.  And, compared to the stick figures around me, a bit hefty as well.  We finished our shopping and returned home, where I finally worked out how to get HOT water, not just 'slightly less cold', and am enjoying the silence that you can hear. 

Walk length:  20 minutes

Day 30: A Thief And A Robber

One of the places I wanted to go while in Cyprus was the Kourion Theatre.  I drove there, today, and was only mildly surprised to find it closed, as it was New Year's Day.  The gates were barred and shut and not a guard or tourist guide was in sight.  I tramped around the sides briefly, considered, and then with two big steps and a jump (and some justification in my mind), cleared the rock at the side of the gate and began walking up the path to the theatre.  'Only a thief and a robber climbs in over the walls,' I thought, but I didn't go back...and then I saw I was in the company of two other thieves and robbers, and pretty soon they were everywhere.  I wandered about to my heart's content while the sun played on the stone steps of the theatre and danced on the surface of the faraway sea.  Three cats made advances to me, purring like little outboard motors and following every step I made.  One even consented to be a model, momentarily.  I walked for a long time, including climbing, and went on later to Aphrodite's Birthplace, where the sun set in purple-and-pink splendour (quite splendour) and I watched it reflected on the waters.  On the hill nearby there were little love hearts made out of beach rocks.  Later tonight I walked the seafront, so I am now officially worn out, and expect I will enjoy my day of rest tomorrow immensely. 

Walk length: 2 hours+

Day 29: Rainy Friday

Today I exercised the exception that proves the rule, and just took the day off.  I know it's meant to be a Sunday, but it was just such grey, cool, stay-inside kind of weather that no matter how much I tried to talk myself into a walk, my mind and body were having none of it.  I read through one of the books I had brought, a random charity-shop purchase, and every time I thought of setting it aside and going out, I found I was putting it off further.  "I'll just read till one..." - and one o'clock would come and I'd shift it to three, and pretty soon I just wasn't going anywhere.  I drank green tea, and ate popcorn I found in a cupboard, and then drove off to celebrate New Year's with friends in Larnaka.  We ate roast pork with cider and cranberry stuffing, curry potatoes, mediterranean grilled vegetables, and some amazing desserts.  We drank wine that sparkled as much as the conversation and laughter, and the language switched between Greek and English with so much rapidity that I didn't even feel lost.  (Well, not much.)  We paused to pray at the start of the meal, and as I bowed my head the words that flowed out were incomprehensible to me, and then there was a pause.  "And we can also pray to you in English, Lord," he said, and amidst laughter continued on in prayer.  We ate German stollen (made festive with a cheery red bow) and drank coffee, and suddenly it was a minute to midnight and we were standing on the balcony watching the fireworks over the city and wishing each other a happy new year.

Happy new year!

Day 28: Choirokoitia Village

Kait came by and we walked to the nearby village, called Choirokoitia (pronounced with a 'K' sound, and apparently the 'oi' is pronounced 'ee', so it sounds more like Keero-ka-teeya).  It was almost cold today - not compared to Scotland, but compared to what I thought it should be, here.  Still very pleasant, and Kait and I enjoyed catching up, sprinkled by stops for lovely photos. (I'm actually horrible at trying to spend time with someone and take photos at the same time - I really shouldn't do it. I kept stopping at random times and poor Kait would keep walking on and then look back and realise I wasn't next to her, or listening to what she was saying...but she pressed on valiantly and didn't complain!)  We found a 'Natural Path' (as opposed to a Nature Path - sometimes the Greek translation to English falls a little short) and were amused to see manmade stone steps taking us down.  So natural! 
Soon this led to a legitimately 'natural' dirt path, which wound around the outskirts of the village.  I stopped every few seconds for a photo - as Mary Stewart puts it in "Moonspinners", "The very dust of this place is photogenic!"  Halfway round we felt a few sprinkles of rain, and then a huge rainbow spread across the whole valley we were in.  It was glorious. 

We passed a small cave, climbed seemingly endless steps, and came back round to the stone streets of the village, with cheery blue and white flags waving to us as we passed.  (One, however, wrapped itself firmly around its post and stubbornly refused to fly.  It was feeling either unpatriotic or just plain grumpy.)  We passed a whole slew of cats, chatted to a friendly man who fed the cats, and when I stopped to take a photo of a fruit truck, its owner stopped, leaped out agilely, and posed winningly by its side for my photo.  I loved it.  He stopped again as he passed us going down out of the village and insisted on giving us fresh apples and oranges from the back of his truck.  We couldn't speak either of us a word that we could understand (curse you, Tower of Babel!), but we parted with great cheer and much waving on both sides.

Walk length:  1.5 hours

Day 27: Blooming Tea and Finekoudes Beach

(Just in case you're confused, I am posting about ten walks in a row as I was - blissfully - disconnected from the internet while I was away in Cyprus! Enjoy!)

It is quiet here in my villa in Cyprus - so quiet, I can hear the silence hum. The stars are out, shining brilliantly and winking at me.  The landscape is even quiet - so few billboards, and many of them are in Greek, so they don't assault my senses the same way.

Tonight we went to a Chinese restaurant.  The tables were layered with brilliant white and red cloths, and the lights sparkled everywhere.  Little white Christmas lights decorated the windows, and a nativity stood on a table nearby.  There were little Chinese figurines set into the walls, little tableaus as though you were looking in through a window to a little old man and woman having tea, or a man playing the mandarin.  The restaurant was called 'Mulan', and on the walls there were canvas murals of the legendary female warrior.  I wanted to take them home.  Turns out that all the decorations were brought or shipped directly from China - everything was so authentic it brought out the enjoyment that much more.  We chatted with the owner (my friend's brother), brainstorming about marketing and encouraging him to take breaks and not work 24-7.  The highlight of the meal was something called 'blooming tea' which I had never seen before.  We ordered jasmine tea and the lady brought out this clear teapot filled with hot water, setting it on a stand with a votive candle underneath.  Then she took what looked like a large brown nut and dropped it into the hot water, and for the next five minutes we watched enthralled as this flower bloomed in the water right before our eyes.  (Well, Henrietta and I watched enthralled....as Mihalis put it, he and Alex were 'being cool' and couldn't get too excited about a teapot and a flower. But we're pretty sure they were impressed as well.)  I loved it so much I planned to come back later on in my holiday , just for tea!

After the meal (and the blooming tea) we took a walk down at Finekoudes Beach, but there was so much debris on the beach that we didn't end up walking on the sand too much.  I wasn't cold until I saw Mihalis come up with a leather jacket on, and suddenly I wished for mine.   Funny how that happens!

My other favourite experience of the day was a simple one of just getting fuel for the truck I was borrowing from friends.  The truck key was supposed to open the fuel door, but it wouldn't work.  The young man who came to serve me tried to open it but without success.  "Is this the key?" - "Yes, yes", I insisted, even ringing the owners of the truck to make sure.  She confirmed, and whilst me and the young man kept attempting the lock, an older man came over, shouldering the young man out of the way and trying the key with no success.  The younger man tries again, and soon there are three men surrounding my fuel tank, arguing vociferously in Greek.  I have no idea what they are saying but by their actions and intonations it sounds something like this:  "Here - let me do it."  -"No. I, I alone, will help the young lady."  "You are not doing it right. Try this way."  The older man disappears and returns triumphantly with the WD-40, which they spray on the lock.  Still no joy.  One of the young men finds a knife and jiggles the fuel door while the other young man tries the key - ah! At last!  And after filling up the tank they all wave me off with great cheer and kindness, and I drive off into happiness.

Walk length:  40 minutes