SUNDAY lunch is when the half dozen or so fish restaurants at Governor’s Beach, which can each seat around 400 diners, are packed with rich townies out for the day – not conducive for those of us who seek civilised surroundings, genteel conversation and good service.
But after the sun has submitted to that purple hue of dusk imperceptibly consuming the horizon, and swallows orchestrated stillness across the bay, our party of eight had the choice of almost any table at any of those restaurants.
With unobstructed views of the bay and the moon suspended like a Chinese lantern, our party chose an outside table; peace, until a party of compatriots arrived at a time when small children should be in bed – pandemonium!
Returning to the capital around midnight, I was greeted by screaming motorbikes, fat exhaust Jap-job dragsters and kids without helmets performing wheelies on the latest fashionable and incredibly noisy scooters- not a single cop in sight to contain these revellers.
I went to bed, windows and shutters bolted against a chorus of neighbourhood howling dogs, determined to purchase a rifle with night sights and silencer (an SA-80, the official British army assault rifle capable of despatching 700 rounds per minute) intent on ridding this country of the inconsiderate and selfish, howling dogs and all, oblivious of my own selfish obsession for tranquillity.
From my fourth floor all around balcony I have a clear overview of the main road and neighbourhood gardens; so much for the dogs. Scooter boys would receive a single shot in the back while wheeling. Butch riders of those horrendously powerful motorbikes rapid automatic bursts – too bad if the innocent get in the way; they shouldn’t be out roaming until four on a Monday morning!
Jap-job dragsters might present more of test, yet even if I failed to stop them, the odd hit would slow them down a bit, make them consider the dangers they are running by disturbing the sleep of peace loving, law abiding citizens – should the very thought ever enter their empty heads!.
Show respect and consideration for others I was always taught. These were the cardinal rules of my youth. Yet after the initially demeaning 1974 invasion, wealth and easy living has created a state for pandemonium and anarchy. Formula One road racing, which used to be enacted under the cover of darkness, has become a 24/7 activity. Chain sawing shrubbery at dawn in an effort to avoid the heat of the day is now de rigueur. It’s not only the young who abuse…
I am repeatedly reminded by my compatriots that we could, at any time, lose the entire island to a second invasion; lose our wonderful homes, luxury lifestyles and seemingly full wallets. Is this the reason why the majority of us now seem to care little for each other and even less for what’s left of our country, living the life of Reilly while the good times last?
Having invested every cent in our profligate ways, are we now condemned to remain apart? If we really wanted a reunified island, wouldn’t we have formed associations with our TC brothers by now, learnt their language and shared our cultures, even though Turkey, who is calling the kettle black in international waters off Gaza, keep 40,000 troops in the north to deny us free access?
This prolonged separation has created an innate fear of reunification, both halves existing in a state of pandemonium at restaurants, night clubs, on the beaches, in our homes, on the roads, in our schools, hospitals and sports arenas, never mind at the service counters of our surly and inefficient civil servants.
I was awoken at dawn this morning by cawing crows, and again shortly after by a cacophony coming from two nearby palatial building sites (little is worse than a persistently beeping JCB); six days a week now for the past two years. By law, building site noise should not begin before 7am and end by 4.30pm, Monday to Friday, ending at 1.30pm on Saturdays, no Sundays, yet who gives a damn?
If I could separate out Turkish Cypriot builders’ labourers from Greek Cypriots, the Greek Cypriots would be included in my imaginary shooting gallery. But I can’t, and wouldn’t want to be responsible for an incident that might give rise to a second invasion, although the shooting of ubiquitous crows, which for centuries have been regarded as vermin, would cause few dissenters.
He who makes idle threats does so to relieve frustration. Don’t worry dog and crow lovers; I wouldn’t dare hurt a hair/feather on their heads. But others will, and not only dogs and their selfish owners!
When law enforcement is inexistent, individuals step in and poison dogs, bomb cars, rob graves, rule the roads, and concoct seditious websites that serve outspoken journalists with death threats. Or worse still, randomly shoot pedestrians on high streets or chop up toddlers in Chinese kindergartens.
In the beginning was the word. Thirty six frustrating years of words and now is the time for action. Yet if the Talks on the property issue end in stalemate, which seems more than likely, we are doomed to anarchy and permanent partition.
The bells are tolling loudly proclaims our president. But not for us say the people.
A lack of firm leadership, common aim or purpose, leads a society into decline, yet both communities must first get their own houses in order ahead of inviting each other to tea, thus denying decadence, anarchists or vermin the right to rule. How do we expect others to Love Cyprus when we abuse her for the sake of a new Merc sat on a double yellow line or pavement outside a fashionable coffee house or restaurant?
We have become masters of contempt for authority. Who is to blame if not our numerous political parties with their constant bickering, rusfetti and well remunerated lifestyles?
Cyprus is in need of a saviour, a dictator, not an increase in the number of deputies to further cloud our murky political waters. This worsening economic crisis will force major cuts in public spending, increasing unemployment and hardship, yet every cloud has a silver lining.
