Ikea gets everywhere!

Just along the donkey track from us ...

Now, step a little closer …

2010 Ikea catalogue, in Greek

Our old friends Ikea are still doing a roaring trade here!

Not a square wall in the house

This new (to us) house is somewhere in the region of 200 years old.  Despite our best efforts it hasn’t been possible to get a better indication of exactly how old, nor be sure of the original layout.  We know it has been added to several times and, best estimates suggest, it is at least quadrupled in size.  That said, since the original building was probably only two rooms it’s hardly huge.  All told it is currently about 125m², about 1350 ft².

When we first viewed the house it was clear that there were few, if any, square corners.  ”No matter” said we, “It’s an old house, if we’d wanted regular walls and corners then we’d have bought a new house.”  It wasn’t until the builder started to lay the new floor tiles that it became clear just how far off square some of the walls were.

Internal doorway from the dining room to the kitchen

That led to some re-planning of the little utility room.  The space had been measured at a little under 2 metres therefore there should be no problem fitting a 60cm wide fridge freezer, a 60cm wide washing machine and a 60cm wide cupboard.  Logic, and a little simple maths, suggested there’d be a good 20cm spare space and therefore plenty of room to open the door to the downstairs cloakroom at the end of the room.

Once the room had been tiled though it became clear that the walls were shockingly off true.  Which wouldn’t be a problem but for those planned white goods and units.  Concerned that we would try and install them and have a problem Mandy spent one Sunday morning making templates of the units out of brown paper and then taping them to the floor.

Our concerns were justified … yes, they’d fit but it would be at the expense of being able to open the door.  Far from ideal.  In the end, and after much deliberation, we sacrificed the tall larder cupboard and made do with a unit two thirds the width.  Even so the door only just opens.

As we used square tiles, of assorted sizes, throughout the house it is now possible to see just how off-square some of the walls are.  Our trusty builder, Kieran, didn’t curse us too much … at least not in our hearing :-)

Inside the upstairs door

Inside the shower room

The yellow tree is a-buzzing!

Parts of the garden are still a mystery to us.  Before he left Mad Alex gave a rudimentary overview of some of the plants but it was far from complete and, as we’ve since discovered, not entirely accurate.  Gosh, there’s a surprise.

Near the end of the garden, and overhanging the stone wall, was a fairly forlorn 15 foot high tree.  During our first attempt at pruning we cut the tree back, mainly concentrating on removing the branches on our side of the wall as they were fighting with the yucca, an unknown fruit tree and one of the lemon trees.  We left the height, took the weight off the wall, and left all of branches hanging out into the street.

Its hard pruning seems to have done it no harm at all as it is now in full flower.  It is covered in hundreds of most vibrant bright yellow flowers, as well as clusters of seed pods.  We still have no idea what the tree is.

Today, whilst walking down towards the gate, we heard a loud buzzing noise.

For most of April the garden is alive with the sound of bees as they come along to harvest the pollen from the fruit tree flowers, and ensure we get a good fruit crop, but hearing this so late in the year is new.

A little investigation found that the yellow tree was full of the biggest, fattest bees we’ve ever seen.  The bees were moving from flower to flower, diving into each blossom to get the very last pollen in each one.  The sound was so loud that while we were taking photos tourists stopped to look at the trees and the bees.

It turns out that photographing busy bees isn’t easy … but there’s just no other way to get across their size.  So, please excuse any slight out-of-focusness – the depth of field issues were an interesting challenge!

The yellow-flower tree

The flowers in close-up

For sizing purposes that’s a 1€ coin nestling among the flowers; it just fits inside one of the trumpet flowers.  A little research confirms that the 1€ coin is about the same size as a UK £1 coin and, for our American cousins, the size of a US quarter.

One huge bee in a pretty big flower

Preparing for entry

We still have no idea what the tree is so any insights or suggestions would be gratefully received.  In the meantime … the buzzing continues!

The garden, mid-October

The sun is shining, jobs are done for the day so before we put the kettle on for a well earned cup of tea we thought it would be useful to get some photos of the fruit trees in the garden and surroundings. The fruit is ripening day by day so it’s a good time to capture where each of the trees is in their cycle.

The small citrus tree is absolutely laden with fruit … they are tiny, but there are plenty of them.

Mandarins ... tangerines ... satsumas ... clementines?

So far we aren’t entirely sure what they are … mandarins, clementines, satsumas, tangerines?  Mad Alex allowed someone to strip all the fruit from the tree before we took possession last year.  For some time this wasn’t clear, leaving us thinking the tree produced no fruit at all, until we spotted two stray fruit lurking right in the very centre.  Clearly too hard to harvest for whoever took the rest of the fruit!  We picked the remaining two and they were lovely … not too sweet or too tart and not oversupplied with pips either.

So far it looks like we’ll get a good crop but at the moment over 95% of the fruit are still a dark green.  The occasional one or two are starting to turn to a pale green, then yellow before becoming bright orange in late November.

Just starting to ripen

The two lemon trees are also doing well.  The tree near the gate has larger, still solid green, lemons; the garage tree  has smaller but more advanced lemons which are just starting to turn yellow.

Green lemons on the gate-end tree

Ripening lemon on the garage-end tree

The pomegranate tree is presenting some problems with regard to its attractiveness to local wildlife, but that’s an issue for another day.  In the meantime the fruit that have escaped such attention are ripening fantastically well.  One of our neighbours has three trees in her courtyard.  Last year she estimated that they produced over 100 kg of fruit between them.  Far, far more that she could use or give away to friends, so she ended up bagging up the fruit and leaving them outside her house with a note offering them for free to tourists.

Near-ripe pomegranates

Just around the corner, down the donkey track, there is a derelict plot containing the remains of a partially renovated two storey house.  If anyone is looking for an adventurous renovation project then look no further!  In the absence of any care and maintenance pomegranate and particularly fig trees have been growing unchecked.  The figs are coming on well, with a mix of under-ripe and hard green fruit and delicious looking ripe purple figs.

Ripening figs

Yet more figs

Those with a keen eye may notice an interloper in the second of the fig photos.

The photographer gets no points for observation today having missed the tiny praying mantis posing on a branch just off to the left of the figs.

All being well, updates to come in due course!

Thursday’s Tried & Tested

One of our hopes in quitting work and moving here was that we would be able to live a simpler life. In financial terms we certainly needed to live more frugally, but we also wanted to shift down a gear or ten and live a quieter life.  Not so much “The Good Life” but with a healthy nod towards the mindful philosophy of the “Slow Food” movement.

With that in mind one of the things that we have enjoyed since we arrived is having the time to research and investigate and experiment some of the things that previously we could only say “Oh, that’s a great idea. I wonder if it actually works?”

Three years in we’ve been able to do some of that so we thought we’d share some of the things that have worked well. Some are money saving tips, some are time saving, some are using resources differently, some crafty, and so on.

To kick off, a foodie Tried & Tested.

Oven-Dried Tomatoes

From time to time (ok, a couple of times a month) we end up with a small bowl of sad and tired tomatoes languishing in the cupboard. Grocery shopping is approaching, it’d be a shame to waste the tomatoes but they’re, well, a little past their best.

And yet, it’s possible to not just refresh them but make them into something that can be used in any of half a dozen dishes. Their flavour concentrates, their texture changes entirely.  When Ian sees these being prepared he smiles. A suspicious soul would suggest that he over-buys tomatoes to make sure this happens regularly :-)

So;

• Cut the tomatoes in half, or quarters if they are absolutely huge
• Place them cut-side up in an oven proof dish (in this case, the lid of a pyrex dish bought for Mands by her grandmother as a housewarming present many year ago. Pyrex goes on forever!)
• Drizzle over a little olive oil, sprinkle a little salt and freshly ground pepper. Add some herbs if there are any hanging about … in this case some thyme straight from the freezer
• Put the dish in the oven on a very low heat for an hour, or two or even three, and allow the tomatoes to dry out
• Once they are cooked put them in a tupperware, cover them completely with oil and pop them in the fridge, or even the freezer. They’ll keep happily in the fridge for a couple of weeks, though they tend not to last that long in this house.

Slightly tired tomatoes, pre-cooking

To use them;

• Toss them through pasta or add them to an existing pasta sauce
• Add them to salads, using some of the oil to make the salad dressing
• Stand at the fridge door and eat them direct from the tupperware, remembering to mop up the telltale oil dribbles before anyone notices
• Drain them and pile them, with some parmesan or olives or herbs, onto lightly toasted bread to make bruschetta
• Add them to homemade pizzas, or to shop-bought to make them a little more interesting

Things worth noting;

• When the tomatoes are all gone the oil is great for adding a tomatoey flavour to other dishes
• If the oven temperature is low enough they can be cooking along with something else. If the oven is on but the temperature is a little high they’ll probably be ok but do keep a close eye on them
• They can be made in huge batches which is useful when the summer tomato glut comes
• They cook really well in a halogen oven, particularly if there are round containers to hand
• They are fairly robust in terms of the flavours they’ll accept. Thyme, oregano, garlic, chilli, balsamic vinegar (but skip the drizzle of oil) all work well
• They are a great fridge standy-by for when folks drop by unexpectedly … a little like biscotti

Post-cooking

Bruschetta with oven-dried tomatoes, smoked turkey & parmesan

Happy cooking!

Plumbing delays

The kitchen is back on hold :-(

The countertops are cut, holes are jigsawed for the sink, the taps and the hob,  the lengthy project to seal the wood has started.  Today the plumber was due to make permanent connections for all the pipe work, install the pesky tap and deal with the gas connections.  Having moved in to what was effectively a building site back in mid-July we were really looking forward to being able to cook properly.

Ready and waiting

We have a microwave, but it rarely gets used.  We have a halogen oven that gets a huge amount of usage.  We have the BBQ that we brought with us when we left England.  With the three of them we’ve managed over the past 10 weeks or so but it’s getting tiresome, particularly with the added challenge of there being no running water at all in the kitchen.

Having finally found a tap that had a deep enough fixings to work with the countertop Ian pushed on last week getting the final cuts made and the counters pinned in place.  In a room where not a single corner is square fitting the units and then the counters has been a challenge.  But this weekend the last main one was done and the oiling process started in preparation for the plumber’s visit today.

In preparation we stripped the kitchen, again, removing things like the small appliances and the contents of the relevant cupboards out to the dining room table and any other space we could shoehorn them into.

Evicted from the kitchen in preparation

Sadly, the plumber’s wife has contracted some sort of stomach bug and is unwell.  ”Since she keeps passing out I think I probably shouldn’t leave her for now” he said.  Well, yes!

As much as we’d like a working kitchen we had to agree, so everything is now on hold until Friday at the earliest.  It’s only another few days but the disappointment is heavy.

Hello, we were just passing!

When we bought this house we knew that , to some extent, we would be distancing ourselves from friends.  Living in Aradippou meant we were only a few minutes from the beach, from shopping in town, from the airport.  The new house is pretty much half way between Larnaca and Limassol so a minimum drive of 30 minutes to get anywhere, or to any one.

One of the risks of the move was that we could be isolated.  Well, if this week is anything to go by that won’t be a problem!

Having recently got back from England we’ve been knuckling down to getting the kitchen finished.  With that major project and some minor irritations (such as following up with Cyprus Airways regarding compensation for the luggage they choose to send to a different airport) and the usual household admin we’ve been kept quite busy.

On Tuesday this week we downed tools late afternoon, made a well-earned cup of tea and both settled down with a book. Not 10 minutes later we were surprised to hear the bell on the garden gate jingle as the heavy gate was pushed open.

“Anyone home?“

Came the shout, as a friend walked in, accompanied by a total stranger.  As coffee was made and the garden was explored they confessed that they’d been on a trip up to Agros and decided to drive back a cross-country route, via our village.  As they drove past the front gate they saw the car, realised we were probably at home and decided to stop and say hello.

So, we drank coffee and ate biscotti (bought for visitors because it never, ever goes off) … gave a summary of the progress since the last time the friend had been here … gave some background to the stranger on how we’d come across the house and what state it’d been in … gave a guided tour of downstairs … gave a guided tour of upstairs … and the garden … and the donkey track … drank more coffee and then waved them off on their way.

As they drove away we commented how nice it was that people were keen to see the house, and make such a detour to do so, but how we’d need to keep the place tidy if this was going to be a regular occurrence!

On Thursday, as we came to terms with the residual aches and pains of our Wednesday Pilates class, we were having a gentle morning.  The first cup of tea was still warm and cups #2 and #3 were a likely possibility before any serious work started.  Blame that Pilates class for the slow start.

Then the phone rang.

“Hello!  Are you up and about, only you said to drop by to see the house and we’re just up the hill.  Is it convenient?”

They had the good grace to say they were 15 minutes away, and then not turn up for a least twenty minutes which gave us time to dress, make beds and try and make us and the house vaguely presentable.

More coffee … more biscotti … more explanations and tours and donkey tracks … more discussions of rats … and cats and village life.  Then, an hour after they arrived they were on their way.  The beach was calling them and the house was calling us as we smiled wryly and pondered that old concern of isolation up here in the hills.

On Friday we’d just finished lunch when we heard the sound of tourists in the street outside, and then right outside the gate.  The gate had been left slightly open so there was just enough room to peak into the courtyard.  But, looking out through the study window we could see that this wasn’t enough for these folks; one of them pushed open the gate, walked into the garden to look around and then headed back out, pulling the gate to as she went.  In terms of cheeky behaviour it wasn’t the worst we’d ever seen but was fairly high up the list.

Curious to see who these people were we went down the garden and peered down the street to see a group of English people walking away from the house.  It quickly became clear that we knew two of the group of five.  The two had seen the house back in May, before we moved in, and they’d wanted to show friends the location but hadn’t been sure if we were in or wanted visitors, hence the cheeky look around the garden.

Having said hello to the group and been introduced to the three visitors it seemed churlish not to extend an invitation to look around.  Since the kitchen countertops were in pieces out in the garden we dispensed with the coffee but did the rest of the tour … the explanations … the Mad Alex stories … the kitchen design … the donkey track … upstairs and the views … the garden … the fruit trees etc etc etc.

Since they hadn’t been into the centre of the village we walked them down, via the donkey track, to the tiny church with the beautiful painted ceiling which holds just a single service a year.  And then we took them to the lace and silver shops and left them there to consider their purchases.

Meanwhile we walked back through the village to the house and restarted work on the countertops and discussed whether we need to increase the biscotti-buying in light of our unexpected visitors.

In Aradippou no one ever just dropped by, probably because navigating the village was such an issue; here, nine visitors, including four total strangers, in four days.  It must be something in the air, but it’s an unexpected benefit of being here.

Biscotti with your coffee?

Village Life #1

There is an olive tree just beyond our back door on a small piece of village land.  The land itself is a the dead-end of the donkey track that runs through the village and past our house.  In time we hope to adopt the piece of land, clearing the weeds and rubble and adding some seating and the like.   Until then, and since we moved in, we’ve been waiting with interest to see who owns or rents the tree.

Olive trees are a precious commodity here and often, if people don’t have space for their own tree, they rent one from someone else.  This tree is a good, healthy, mature tree and had been harvested last year so we knew someone would be around eventually.  Here in Cyprus olive harvesting starts as early as September and continues for a couple of months depending on the weather, the location of the tree and whether the desire is for oil or green olives or black olives.

The olive tree

Someone we met on our travels once asked us if our tree produced green olives or black.  Both, is the answer.

The olives start green and eventually turn black.  If they aren’t harvested by then they usually fall off the tree.  Until we arrived here, and rented a house with its own tree, we didn’t realise either.

Anyway, MrOliveHarvester appeared recently in search of this year’s crop.  Rather than walk through the village and up the donkey track he clambered up from the derelict plot below.  That would be the derelict plot full of other folk’s rubbish, some rats and a snake or two.  Suddenly the longer walk doesn’t seem too bad!

Curious to see what the noise was we popped our head out of the back (donkey/pomegranate/used to be front) door.  Having said “hello” in Greek and consequently used up about 25% of our combined Greek vocabulary he made the optimistic assumption that we must be able to speak the language – otherwise why would we have moved to the village?

Happy in his logic he proceeded to explain, in fluent Greek (actually, Cypriot … but that’s an explanation for another day) about his tree and how his olives looked this year and so on and so on.  Body language, gestures and context can give a fair indication of what’s going on, though the specifics can be trickier.

He then went on to explain how the olives should be treated.  Wait until they are fat with oil … pick them … use a heavy stone and a firm base (aka the wall) to crush to show the stone … then rinse them and soak them in a brine solution.  From previous research we knew some of this so were able to follow a little.  MrOliveHarvester appeared to be advocating soaking them and changing the water three times, but it could have been every three days.

Before he left he stuck his head through the kitchen window and gestured for a container.  When we checked back later the container was full of fat juicing olives for us to deal with … if only we knew the water needed changing three times or every three days.

A little language can be a dangerous thing :-)

Olives!