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

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!

The new house

So, the new house.  It’s in a village about half way between Larnaca and Limassol, up in the hills slightly.  Despite being just 20 minutes to the sea, the extra height means that the temperatures are a little cooler and the humidity is a little lower.  Combined with the peacefulness of a small village it is a rather different lifestyle to the bustle of Aradippou with its population of 10,000 people.

The house itself is an old cottage which has been added to a number of times.  Best estimates are that it is a little over 200 years old.  The previous owner bought an additional piece of land which allowed him to create a small private walled garden and, more importantly, reverse the aspects of the house.  It also allowed direct access to a small road around the edge of the village.  However, the change, still, causes some confusion for us …

“When you said you’d put the thing outside the back door did you mean the old back door or the new back door?”

The old front door (now at the back of the house) opens onto a donkey track which leads into the centre of the village. So, to save our sanity we happily refer to it as the donkey track or pomegranate door in recognition of the tree which grows right outside the door.

As well as walling in the garden the previous owner, Mad Alex, partially renovated the property.  We believe he was responsible for adding the upstairs floor but we could never actually get him to admit that, probably because the title deeds are so shockingly out of date that they bear little relationship to the house.  On the, ever growing, to-do list is yet more bureaucracy as we try and get the current deeds updated.  At present they suggest that we own a ruined room and a tree.

Some days that has felt worryingly close to the truth.

When we first viewed the house Mad Alex suggested it needed “a little re-plastering, and a coat of paint“.  This in a house that had birds nesting in the upstairs room, 22 kittens born to the local tribe of feral cats he had adopted and a single electrical socket in the kitchen.

Clearly we and he had differing opinions of what makes a property habitable and as he disappeared into the sunset with his cardboard boxes of cats we brought in the builders.

20 weeks later we have;

• New windows and doors
• A downstairs bathroom turned into a utility room and a cloakroom
• The entire existing kitchen ripped out
• Downstairs re-wired entirely
• An external staircase removed
• Downstairs re-tiled throughout
• Upstairs & downstairs re-plumbed
• New shower room created
• Floor in the en-suite bathroom lowered by 4 inches
• Upstairs concrete slab floors removed, re-tiled throughout

The builders are long gone but the house is still a work in progress.  Decorating the entire house from scratch and building our first ever kitchen was work we aimed to do.

The most pressing job on the list at the moment is getting the kitchen to a properly usable state.  The units are built, most of the countertops are cut and ready to be fitted.  Space has been cut for the sink and the hob, but things have been held up by a quest for the right tap.

Most Cyprus taps don’t have enough depth to penetrate the non-Cypriot countertop we’ve bought.  Most non-Cypriot taps available here don’t have the third feed that we need for the (periodic) mains supply.  However, three taps on we may have a winner.  If so, we can finally have running water in the kitchen and stop BBQing in the garden – some 10 weeks after we first moved in!

In the meantime, some kitchen progress photos.

Kitchen part way through the re-wiring

Kitchen, from the same angle, part way through the build

Catching up at last

A wedding … one transatlantic crossing by sea … one house purchase … one mad and deluded vendor … 20 weeks of builders onsite … one legal battle with Cypriot bureaucracy … one lawyer’s  suggestion to sue the Government in the European Courts … one sneaky workaround to get round said bureaucracy … two minor operations … one set of demolished external stairs … lots of fruit trees … several hammered thumbs whilst building a kitchen … an awful lot of paint, and filler, and sanding, and non-square walls … some visitors … some temporary electrics … a few rats … some fresher air and cooler evenings

So, we’re back after a break of almost 15 months.  The intention had always been to keep the blog going but circumstances have kept us rather busy of late.  Of course, there’s nothing quite like being accosted, in the toilets of a hotel during a wedding reception, by a total stranger saying …

“I know who you are, I used to read your blog!“

… to bring on the guilt of letting things slip.

We have now moved, to a property which we first saw and made an offer on in Spring ‘08.  It took until December for us to get vacant possession and then until July ‘09 before it was fit to inhabit.  Considering the previous (see deluded, above) owner said it needed nothing more than a little light replastering and a coat of paint that may give an indication of some of the challenges that have kept us busy over the last year or so ago.

Technically the blog should be renamed …

‘VillageUpInTheHillsAbout30MinsDriveFromLarnaca-Tales‘

… but that seems rather wordy so, for the time being we’ll stick with AradippouTales even though we’ve left Aradippou behind us.

Welcome back :-)

Daybreak over Larnaca bay

 

One of the upsides of getting up at an ungodly hour to pick up visitors from the airport is the chance to watch the sun rise over the island.

Yesterday morning we were out of bed at 3am to meet the early flight of our last visitors of the summer. Having picked up people and bags we headed to the nearest Zorbas, the fantastic local 24 hour bakery, to collect breakfast. With bags of pastries, biscuits and fruit juice in hand we headed up into Avdellero while it was still dark.

The church of Agia Marina, high above the village, has superb views over to the coast and across Larnaca bay. It is near to here that we saw the bee-eaters and saw eagles and long-legged buzzards soar.

As the sun slowly rose and night faded away, the two photographers took a series of photos while the blogger perched on a ledge outside the church, admired the view and captured the moment.

 

 

Looking East

 

 

 

Sunrise, seen through the church

 

Sunrise over the bay

 

 

 

 

Seating within the outer perimeter of the church

Legal, at last!

After two years, two months and one day the car finally has legal, legitimate Cypriot number plates.

Those of you with long memories may recall that we bought a new, VAT-free, car in England a month before we left. The VAT-free status was permitted as we intended to remove the car from the country within two months. The payback was that we would, ultimately, need to pay VAT in Cyprus once the car was registered.

Meanwhile the car was a corner-stone of Op Keo, our ‘leaving England’ plan. Our intention was to spend three weeks driving to Cyprus and stopping at all of the places in Europe that we’d always wanted to see. We did just that and had an absolutely wonderful time – well, apart from the night that we accidentally booked into a German Sanatorium.

Anyway, once we arrived in Cyprus our carefully crafted plan for importing the car fell apart. Arriving on hot and sunny Friday afternoon our case was considered to be too complex and the car was impounded, The following Monday we were allowed to remove it from Limassol and place it in a bonded warehouse in Larnaca to begin the official import process.

To assist we employed a local agent with the intention that she, rather than us, would travel to Nicosia on a periodic basis to progress our claim. Over the course of the last two years she has liaised with officials, produced copies of documents and apparently argued our case.

In truth we have to wonder if she has been a help or a hindrance. Yes, her language skills and knowledge of the process have been helpful, but in reality her ability to follow-up on any actions have been sadly lacking. Today, when we finally took delivery of the new number plates we discovered that she applied for them in late May and has been driving around with them in her car since then.

Nevertheless, the process is now done. The car is legal, she has shiny new plates and (all being well) we need never deal with the importation department in Nicosia ever again. In the final analysis we probably didn’t save a huge amount of money. The VAT we paid was at 15% rather than at 17.5% but we paid some registration fees and a (very small) amount of money to the agent. But, buying in England gave us a wonderful new car to allow us to drive here and fulfill that dream.

On that note, just one anecdote to give a flavour of the way things work here.

After the car had been moved to the bonded warehouse in Larnaca we were required to attend the local customs office to complete paperwork and, hopefully, give us temporary rights to drive the car. One of the office assistants at the bonded warehouse was tasked with accompanying us to the customs office to oversee the process. It occurred to her that once she had dealt with us she had another case, in another direction, to deal with and that it would therefore make sense to take two cars. Apart from her car the only other available vehicle was our impounded car.

“Ahhh, you should follow me in your car. But make sure you don’t park near to the office windows as we don’t want the import officer to see the car. After all, it is supposed to be in the warehouse still! ”

Life may be simpler now that the car is legal :-)

Catching Up

I know, I know. We sort of disappeared off the face of the world for a while. Sorry ’bout that and all!

Summer has truly arrived, in fact we’re in the middle of a heatwave according to the government, not unlike last year. This year’s heat is made more challenging by the continuing lack of water. Rationing has now been in place for several months and impacts our lives much more that we anticipated. More of that later perhaps.

In other news we’ve just waved goodbye to our second set of visitors this summer. Both sets had good hot weather, possibly hotter than they might have wanted, and managed to get out and about to see the sites as well as fitting in a fair few beach days. With both we headed to Nicosia and crossed through to the north via the newly opened Ledra Street crossing.

We also managed a couple of weeks off the island sailing across the Atlantic … again. We had such a good time last year that we gave in and booked the same trip once more. As last year the crossing was fantastic, the boat was wonderful and the company was excellent. And, with a crew of 200 or so and only 81 passengers we were spoiled rotten. Long may that continue ;-)

While we were away we managed to pick up a number of bits and pieces that either aren’t available here or are simply too overpriced to justify buying them. Top of the list was a tiny computer for traveling and for use out of the house. Right now, while the temperatures are in the mid 30s and the air isn’t moving it is bliss to be able to update the blog from the comfort of the shaded patio rather than a hot study.

And, in amongst everything else, we’re trying to buy a house. Just a small place, a little way up in the hills where it might be a little cooler. There are a few glitches with the sale (including the small matter of the house being four times the size that the Land Registry think it should be) so no more of that until there’s something definite to report!

Pay and Display …

… in an olive grove? Sometimes things here make no sense ;-)

Just to be clear, the nearest village is about 5 miles away!