Every year, I go home for Christmas. And though I’ve lived in Cyprus for the last 30 (sometimes very odd) years, the old adage is true: home IS where the heart is – and that’s my mother’s little cottage in the picture perfect Cotswolds.
In winter, it snows. Carollers line the high street; mullioned windows glimmer from within. There are ancient pubs with roaring fires, second-hand bookshops you can get lost in, and mulled wine stands wafting clove-scented clouds of warmth. The chime of church bells hangs in the wintry air as robins chirp from bare-branched trees and hollyed hedges. In short, it’s a living Christmas card; and to me, the very epitome of home.
But this year, I won’t be there. Covid-19 has put paid to my usual plans, and instead I’ll be celebrating Christmas in Cyprus, sans family. Granted, I’ll be with my partner (who hails from London, and recalls the more urban delights of the Oxford Street lights, the Harrods Christmas crush, and late-night shopping) and my mother will be joining her sister for a Christmas-in-a-corona-bubble, so I should be grateful. But it’s still a shock to the system. And that rings true for all of us whose Christmas has been stolen by corona.
“I’m going to miss my family so much,” says 23-year-old Keira Spencer, who moved to Cyprus from Shropshire in January, just ahead of the pandemic. “Last Christmas we spent the entire holiday together – hanging the decorations, eating mince pies, drinking mulled wine into the night. This year, I’m going to be alone. Alone in my little Limassol flat; the same place I’ve lived and worked and slept and dreamt for the last six months.”
For most of the seasonal refugees, Christmas loneliness has never been an issue. This is Cyprus, and there’s a friend round every corner, be it a convivial colleague, next-door neighbour, or open-hearted stranger. There has always been someone willing to welcome you into their family come Christmas, plying you with more food, warmth, hospitality, and questions than one person could possibly stomach.
But in 2020, everything has changed; our warm, sociable, outdoor island is experiencing what may well be its worst nightmare: enforced distance. Which means there’ll be legions of islanders who usually fly home for Christmas spending the holidays alone. And thousands more family members waiting abroad for an annual return that, this year, won’t take place.
“My mother is in her 80s,” says Mark Whitting, who hails from New York. “She’s not in the best of health and, to be honest, even before the pandemic my wife and I been considering moving back home; my mother is getting to the stage where she needs someone to care for her, and I’m an only child.”
But with corona foiling their plans, Mark and his wife now worry about who will be there for his mother – especially over Christmas. “Given her age, she’s considered vulnerable,” he laments. “So it’s not like she can join in with Christmas dinner at the church, or have a few friends round for pie. And I wouldn’t want to further risk her health by flying over for a couple of weeks – I’d have to quarantine anyway to be safe, and by the time that was over, I’d need to be back in Cyprus, in my office.”
Miranda Tringis, owner of botanical park CyHerbia, will also be missing her family this year. “Thank goodness we flew back to Holland for Christmas 2019,” she says. “It was absolutely wonderful: the whole family gathered in my parents’ village in Holland, my sisters and daughters, aunts and uncles, and we spent the holidays cooking and laughing together. And that’s what Christmas should be about: making memories with the people you love. Kids don’t remember the gifts, they remember the year we burnt the turkey, the time they won at Cluedo, or the way we laughed at our drunk uncle – and making those memories is so important at this time of year.”
As Miranda’s two daughters are unlikely to be with her on the 25th, she has plans to make her new memories. “I accept what I can’t change, and change what I can,” she smiles. “I think, on Christmas Day, I’ll pop on a scarlet swimsuit and go paddle boarding with a bottle of champagne. Start a new tradition. Who knows, next year, maybe my whole family will be able to join in!”
George Constantinou, who works in Larnaca, has also seen his plans scuppered by Covid-19. “My wife and I have been scrimping and saving for three years so we could take the whole family back to Melbourne for this year’s hols,” he says sadly. “My youngest son has never met his grandparents, and both my wife and I were dying to see all our friends and relatives. We’ve been hoping against hope that we might be able to make it, but with three kids under the age of 10, and elderly parents back home, the trip just doesn’t make sense. Plus, my wife works in a hotel and has been mostly unemployed since the start of the pandemic. We’ve already had to dig into our vacation savings, so it looks like even if it were safe to travel, we wouldn’t have the money.”
The financial implications of corona have affected island residents of all ages who have seen their seasonal arrangements frustrated. “One year, my kids and grandkids come to me, the next, I fly back to them in the UK,” says Pamela Cooper, who moved to Cyprus for “a sun-soaked retirement” after her husband passed away in 2014.
“2020 was my year to go back home, back to Kent, back to the little town where my two sons and six grandchildren all live,” says Pamela. “But with corona, it’s just not safe for me to travel. And with everything that’s happened to the economy this year, they can’t afford to come here. So I guess it will be Christmas for one in Peyia. I’m a pretty tough old bird, I’ve seen a lot in my life, so I’m not saying there’ll be tears in the turkey. But I can’t help hoping that next year, God willing, all of us can get home for Christmas.”
