This isn’t likely to be a very jolly diary as I’m in the doldrums suffering from a severe case of post-holiday blues. We have just got back from our first family holiday having spent a few days in the Kathikas area and I’m now questioning the sanity of living slap bang in the middle of a beautiful Mediterranean island in an aesthetically-challenged city that is an hour’s drive away from the sea.
What a holiday. It turned out to be the best I can remember and yet we did very little, spent hardly a penny and with the exception of a couple of meals in tavernas, ate ropey old homemade pasta or bread and cheese most days. Obviously having Calypso was a major factor in our enjoyment but apart from her it was the area we stayed in that made it so enjoyable.
Last year we also holidayed in Cyprus but because 90 per cent of the rest of Nicosia was in Protaras at the time and we spent much of our holiday avoiding people like our bank manager (who we hid from behind a pile of watermelons in the supermarket) it didn’t really feel as if we had got away. Added to that was the fact that we came back to Nicosia one day to do a few chores and catch up on some washing – hardly holiday behaviour. This year was entirely different. Although only an extra half hour journey, that side of the island really does feel like another world and when up in the hills the climate is just wonderful. Bearable heat and no humidity – bliss!
My brother lived in Cyprus before I moved here and I remember him complaining about the severe heat in August one year. Still living in Scotland at the time and contemplating buying a dinghy with which to navigate the rain-sodden streets of Edinburgh I found it churlish, to say the least, for anyone to complain about a hot summer. My how times have changed, I never thought I would see the day when I would crave some rain. So when the newspapers warned that the heat wave was to continue and that temperatures would reach 43 degrees in Nicosia we booked an extra night and would have gladly booked another full week had LH not had work to come back to. In addition to the far more civilised climate, the scenery and flora and fauna in that part of Cyprus is quite spectacular. Every morning we were treated to the sight of a pair of dragonflies performing a dance around the swimming pool – it was almost as if the owners of the apartments had arranged it specially. Without fail these two red and black beauties with orange lace-like wings would appear and were so startlingly beautiful they looked like CGI effects from a film. The early evenings were cool enough to go for walks before the sun went down and catch sight of the local wildlife including a variety of bugs, beasties, relatively large lizards and the home-grown boy racers. Yes, even the less built-up and most picturesque parts of our lovely island can’t escape from those testosterone-charged wallies and their souped-up Japanese prat-mobiles. They really were the only blip in an otherwise faultless setting.
An Italian couple staying in the apartment next to us was very impressed by what they had seen so far of Cyprus. It was very refreshing to hear such positive comments as it is quite the norm now to hear nothing but Cyprus bashing. Other people we met over the course of the few days away were also rather effusive and a few spoke of returning. So, it was with heavy hearts that we left this lovely and temperate part of the island to return to the wall of heat in Nicosia and reluctantly return to the humdrum of a daily routine.
LH went back to work on Monday and Calypso and I have been bonding at home. We can’t really go out or do very much in this heat, it’s way too uncomfortable for her (and me) but my mum came to the rescue as far as alleviating some boredom as she sent me a parcel containing books and a DVD of The Camomile Lawn which really made me smile. While LH’s inspiration behind choosing his daughter’s name may have been rather cultured, I’m afraid mine was far more philistine. Ever since I saw the television adaptation of The Camomile Lawn my favourite name has been Calypso, after one of the main characters. So, the sad and slightly embarrassing truth is that my love of the name had nothing to do with The Odyssey and everything to do with an English, very middle-class bonkbuster. (Like mother like daughter though, I’m named after a character from the very cheesy Western series High Chaparral). By the time I’ve watched all the episodes I’m hoping the temperature will have dropped a little and my blues will have passed.
