A rich present and a rich past: Cyprus.

 A friend of mine has posted pictures from Cyprus several times, as her son in law, is serving in the army there.  That sparked an interest that I should have had for years given that many of my students have come from Cyprus, my neighbours families are from there and almost every local cafe has roots there.   However, it was the chance to walk there that finally got me to book a holiday there.  However, that meant practicing a lot before going and when I became ill after my last trip, that was not possible. So what to do?  In the end I moved the holiday to September in Italy but as I had booked the flights separately, still had to go to Cyprus, so  booked my own accomodation in a small hotel in Paphos harbour then in a hostel in Nicosia (inspired by conversations with aforementioned friend) and another hostel but in Paphos old town. 

                                                            

Paphos Archeological site. 

My first impressions were that is was very touristy, fair enough, even in winter.  In fact, very good as so much was open, and when I got lost, as I did instantly a Brit directed me to my location.  This reminded me that it is not just a holiday destination for many Brits, it is a home.   My hotel was very good value, two nights with breakfast for about £75 and the sun shone, enabling me to explore the Roman ruins with some especially good mosaics, and because I am old I got in for free.  To amuse myself, I also grabbed pizza in the Pizza Express, (more evidence of Britain away from home), where the owner recommended that whilst in Nicosia I pop down to Larnaca.  So far so good.  and a nice sunset, and a wild wind, to end the first part of my holiday.    

Sunset Paphos harbour

The bus to Nicosia takes only a couple of hours, but to my surprise mostly followed the coastline before heading inland.  The sun shone on arrival and in theory my hostel was only 20 minutes away.  40 hot minutes later, I thought I had found the bakery below the hostel  that indicated I was there but when I asked if I was at the Pandora Bakery the server replied with the sneer to the effect oh no we are a much better bakery than that bakery.  Luckily one of the other staff members was much more helpful and sent me back in the other direction, but not before ensuring I had the best cheesecake the island had to offer ( and the most expensive).  Actually the Pandora when I found it was much better, cheaper, open all hours, providing meals and snacks, but given that the hostel was also in a bit of a food dessert, vital.   At first it seemed a bit far out, but once I got used to a better route in only 20 minutes from the centre.    In winter, most hostels are not full, which is good, but the downside can be a lack of heating.  This encouraged early nights in Nicosia, and book reading, but I also loved waking each morning and sitting with a tea overlooking the city and enjoying the sun. 

The UN tower overlooking, no ones land. 

Now the Berlin wall has fallen Nicosia is the site of the only divided European capital and although the baricades and destruction are not as intimidating as Berlin was, it is still a reminder of the fighting in 74 and the impact it has had on the country.    I headed across first thing and had brunch in a simple square before discovering the much more touristy part of town, including a beatiful church, now mosque and several attractive areas coverted into interesting shopping malls.  

The Turkish Cypriot side of Nicosia. 

Sun was followed by intense rain the next day, which is why I had planned trips to museums, both were worth visiting.  Cyprus museum has a lovely display of stone and clay pots over the ages, which were of particular interest to me, and in the Leventis musuem in addition to a great pot of tea with olive bread, I enjoyed the explainations of the art I was looking at and the Cypriot artists' work especially their response to the 74 invasion. 

Clear explanation of images subtext, and the response to the events of 1974  

Brunch, in Larnaca,  under the hot sun reminded me of my visit to Sydney where Greek food is a big influence too.  My original plan to just sit and read vanished when I spotted a bus tour, which one of the hostel guests had mentioned, which included a stop at the salt lake to see flamingoes.  Given that I have sort of been collecting salt lakes and or flamingoes - Senegal, Sardinia, The Camargue, The Cotswolds! I could not resist.  I came back sunburned and wind blown, and happy.  The mosque and lake were especially worth seeing, but Lazarus is also supposed to have risen here and it was nice to see traditional Saturday family gatherings taking place too.  

Almost everyone else on the bus was Russian based on the language being used, but English was the language of the trip. Everywhere I went English was spoken, just one place someone struggled, making it a very easy place for a British traveller.   Sadly I spoke with very few Cypriots, it is often the way on holiday, but one women at the restaurant said her mother in law, was Cypriot, but from London.  The hostel worker was from Nigeria, and everywhere workers apparently from Asia (Chinese and Indian perhaps) and Africa,  were to be found working throughout the places I visited.  Apart from the grumpiness this seemed to induce in the bus drivers, the presence of so many new comers did not seem to impact on Cyrpus, no flags or racist graffiti for example and because on both sides of the divide there are mosques and churches, relatively easy to accomodate some of the major faiths. Several Sikhs were seen too, but don't know if there are facilities for them. But in Nicosia Eid and Chinese new year seemed to be being celebrated, and after leaving I discovered that Mardi Gras had been celebrated too but I had missed the festivities. 

Chinese New Year. 

I had also missed most of the festivities in Paphos by the time I got back.  However, one of the other hostel residents and I enjoy wondering up to the market in search of aphrodite, the Greek god of love and I also got to the Tomb of the Kings and Ethnography museum on my own.  The Tomb of the Kings is a large area, with numerous tombs from the Hellenistic times, which one can climb over,  it seemed a bit unsafe to me on the stairs, so avoided them, but then fell over on the footpath! Perhaps this is why Cyprus seems relatively comfortable today with its wide ethnic mix, this is a country which has had so many different influences over its lifetime, from Britain, Rome, Greecel Phoenicians, Assyrians, Persians, French,  and the Egyptians, it is in the Med, but close to the Levant and yet very much its own too, from Carob, to olive oil and lace and wonderful seas.  

Waves, crashing over the sea wall, Paphos Harbour. 

 In Limassol  harbour I sat, again with a touch of irony, in the Jamie Oliver restaurant, having  another sunny brunch brunch before getting to the Castle and back on the bus by the time the rains crashed down.  On my final day back in Paphos Harbour I loved watching everyone enjoy seeing the waves crash over the sea wall. Then on my final night I joined the people of Paphos, some in carnival clothes, have a town disco.  Heaven.  So what started as a why am I doing this holiday, I in the end really loved being away, meeting the other hostellers and just having some sun and wonderful history.  

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Cyprus has just been bombed from Iran, along with lots of other locations in the Middle East, following Israel and America shelling Iran.      

Food snatchers, the world over!

 Actually the world over is an exaggeration but in Cornwall and Kuala Lumpur at least. 

I have long been trying to get back to Cornwall, and this month I finally got there. I shared a very memorable holiday in Penzance and Exeter with Jagar from Bhutan, when we also went to St. Ives and lovely the Barbara Hepworth material.  I also applied for a job but failed to get one in Falmouth, landing up here in Broxbourne instead, but apart from that have not really been and whenever I have looked up getting there it seems a palaver.  But having spontaneously booked for four days dancing and singing down in Somerset, I was half way to Cornwall, so travelled on and finally got to the Eden Project, booked and planned for, but also the Lost Gardens of Heligan, which was a bonus.  From there it is only a short bus journey to Mevagissey, where I was happily biting into the  most delicious mozzarella Cornish Pasty when with a swoop and a tug, it was gone and woofed down by a pack of seagulls.  It reminded me of my last day in KL. 

I was again very lucky in KL,  a good friend of my sister's offered to put me up.  I did not realise at the time, this would mean having a bedroom and a bathroom to myself in a lovely flat, shared with him, his partner and the gorgeous cats, access to the swimming pool and an insider's view of the capital, which included lots and lots of food.  We had Italian, Chinese, high tea, home made, American but on the last day, climbing the steps up to the Batu caves, a feat in its own right, the monkeys there, snatched my thirst quenching orange juice from my hands, made me scream and fearful on the way down.  

Chickens in Chinatown, KL.

So much fun to have high tea in good company

A friendly feline, adds to the joy of KL 

  The Guilty Parties. 

Slurping up the precious juice. 

About four of the blighters, demolished my pasty in seconds. 

Melaka, thanks to Michael

 I have just checked my bank statements, only to discover, I have been charged twice for what is now this year's travel insurance, once to travel worldwide, second time just to travel in europe. Interestingly the latter is only 20 cheaper.  But I dont think I can afford to travel as much as I did in 2025.  2025 was special ...the final stage of my trip was to Malaysia.  I had learned through Michael Portillo's TV programme how easy it was to travel there overland from Singapore.

The British introduced rubber monoculture, but this now replaced by palm oil trees!

I caught the earliest coach I could in case of problems at passport controlbut luckily all went smoothly.  An hours jouney took me to the sort of coach turn round point, we all had to disembark with all our bags.  If I hadnt filled in my paperwork correctly I could just be left there, andhope another coach would come along but within minutes our coach had profressed to Malaysia.  I thought it would feel like a continuation of Singapore -- lush but it didnt. Verges were cut horribly short and in place of jungle, mile after mile of palm oil trees. it was devastating.    Modern housing estates, equally brutal punctuated the green briefly, until the outreaches of Melaka, which is a delight, once in the old central part. 

The heart of colonial Melaka.

Melaka has a river, pretty buildings, good food, museums more than enough for a couple of days. It was hot, and the first problem was finding my hostel, once that was achieved, I was all set.  However, and frustratingly, I seemed to have lost some of my oomph, I had a lovely time in Melaka, but did not have the confidence to find my way to the beach which on paper was very close.  I just could not find the bus stop to get there and was not confident enough to use Grab cars, and given that in the end I used grab to get back to the central bus station, that was a bit stupid.  They are ridiculously cheap, and well organised, but as I have not successfully even book Uber myself, I just did not have the confidence to use them until I almost had to to move on to KL

Fresh coconut, almost a meal in itself. 

Luckily Melaka is a really charming place and best of all the night market was on three of the nights I was there, literally on my door step.  So that was a happy way to spend the evenings, I sometimes went out early in the morning and walked by the river, I had a tiny room, where I could rest in the afternoons and too much of the time I was happily esconsced in either the Geographer's cafe or I think the butter cafe eating, either excellent European food or Malay delicacies or drinking tea, coffee or coconut juice.   In between I pottered up to the now shell of a Christian cathedral where dead colonisers are buried, and from where the sea can just about be seen, to the stadthuis or palace recreation, where the varied history of the area is presented in tableau form.  Melaka was once a huge, port, until the British came and we wanted it diminished, to favour other colonial outposts!    

My favourite museum

My favourite museum was the Baba Nyonya Museum which features the Perkanakan culture.  Malaysia is very mixed, but the cultures also have separate identities and this is from the Straits Chinese community.  It also has a lovely shop, Melaka is full of tempting trinkets.  And just within my street, I had easily access to a couple of buddhist temples and a muslim Mosque, just part of the Melaka, melange. 

Sibling time in Singapore.

 Christmas has interrupted my travel musings, but also given me an opportunity to insist on sharing some of my experiences with family, who were not necessarily interested but had me as a guest in their house for the celebratory week.  However, I tried to focus my accounts to a large extent with my brother in Singapore as I figured that would most interest my older brother.  It was really important to me. 

For various reasons, that I did not really understand, my brother in Singapore had fallen out with me.  But the sad death of his mother, (he is my half brother) and my more recent travels to places he has known well or lived in has enabled us to have some useful IM contact.  And having seen his son in Melbourne, I was keen that the next part of the trip  went well.  I have never lived with my brother, and previous plans to visit fell apart, and I was trepidatious with regards to how it might work out, given our turbulent history, but actually it was really fine.   I really enjoyed his company and could not help noticing a range of similarities between him and various family members, which added to how comfortable things felt between us. 

Divali decorations up in the Indian part of Singapore. 

His history is really interesting, because having left school with virtually no qualifications, he now has a Masters and has worked teaching English in various places, including significant universities.  His language skills, (and sporting etc)  are much greater than mine.  I enjoyed talking with him.   We happily found cheap places to eat,  he especially likes the Indian side of the city as he is a vegetarian,  (like one of my other brothers and my sister) and we both happily pottered around the various beautiful gardens in Singapore, or by the river.  Having a coffee in a nearby neighbourhood, felt like meeting up in Hampstead, it felt so nice and regular but the best was seeing the University that he has made home for the last few years.  Like much of the city it is lush and green, and cosmopolitan, and unlike much of the city, not as built up, spacious feeling even, a nice environment in which to live and work. 

Fort Canning Park 

 Having worked in Spanish speaking areas and in the Middle East,  he has found Singapore a more challenging place in which to find friends, the work ethic, makes little time for socialising.  But I am most impressed with what he has achieved. It is hot in Singapore Working long houses in that heat alone is a challenge, but he regularly runs, (the University has great sports facilities) he is doing an online sailing course or something similar and is able to nip back and forth to places like Thailand, which he really likes.  And all at a good age.  It seems hard to believe, but he is only 6 or 7 years off retirement, depending on UK regulations.  

Changi prison door. 

He has not had much time for just doing the simple tourist things, but whilst he was working, I was happy to explore both some famous areas, e.g. the iconic "trees", the bay, Raffles,  and some now less well known areas such as the Changi museum.  Changi was once a long jungle walk from the centre of town, but now the whole area is built up.   The bus from Chinatown to there takes an hour, it is built up the whole route.  Singapore was considered a fortress, but actually had been neglected by complacent military preparations.  Malaysia and the Phillipines fell under Japanese rule, as well as Singapore.  The dreadful treatment of the many British prisoners is relatively well known, but the Chinese locals suffered even more and whilst there were many privations in prison, interestingly Brits did on the whole make the best of a very bad situation e.g. setting up classes and entertainments whilst incarcerated.  Seems Tenko was more accurate than I had realised, with incredibly resilient matrons and creatives, but death a reality, that "courage" managed to limit as much as possible for example from villagers who smuggled in food, or prisoners who escaped to forage   In recent years I have visited the death camps in Thailand, Hiroshima in Japan, I did not realise until after I left that I could have visited some of the war time graveyards in Singapore, but I was glad to add to my knowledge about this period in history, a counter to the glamour and luxury in the centre of Singapore. 

I had a lovely coffee and cake in Raffles Hotel Cafe. 

Singapore is expensive but I stayed in a hostel in Chinatown and for the most part was very happy there. We had to take our shoes off on entering the place,  I was in a room with ten others, in a little pod, and I slept well, and managed the shared facilities well, (luckily it was not full) until one night when the air con, was playing up and I suddenly felt really scared, that I was stuck in this place with no air con and what felt like no air.  I was pleased to leave and on the last day, moved to a hotel a bit further out, ready to be near the coach departure place.  I took the opportunity to go to the edge of the island and just spend some quiet time on their Coney Island.  

The edge of Singapore. 

Sad reflections and joyous memories.

 On Facebook, I saw references to another disaster, something to do with Judaism, but it was only on Sunday morning, that I heard about the killings on Bondi beach.   There is nothing one can say to make something like this less horrible.  Holidays are set against such tragedies.    Bondi will probably never be completely the same, at least not in my lifetime, my thoughts are with everyone there, but since I travelled in Japan, Thailand, Indonesia, each country and its residents have dealt with some terrible situations.  As a tourist one can get caught up with these tragedies.   And with climate change more tragedies are happening and my travels are contributing in some ways to them,  so I have contributed to these deaths and been lucky to still be here to travel more. I felt very anxious for example in Thailand knowing I was in Tsunami country but did not know where to go or what to do if one came.   We can't escape reality.   Even in Bali, known as a paradise, there was a bombing.  I know lots of things happen to children as they become adults, but when we think how gorgeous most kids are it is hard to credit how adults can be so hideous.  

I was very lucky in Bali, as I got the gorgeous kids.    With my throat in flames and coughing my guts out, I was not sure I would deliver in my promise to work in a school, yet somehow that was the only thing I did manage to do my second week in Bali.  The organisation I went with had worked with other schools before but me and the two young Germans were the first in the school we worked in.  The schools all functioned as regular schools in the morning, but we worked there in the afternoon, to increase their access to English.   Only a relatively small group came on the first day, so all three of us worked in the class with me in the lead.  We also got to do photos with many of the staff.  To my surprise the teachers were a uninform but not the kids.  (they might do at their regular school and on Thursdays the teachers ditched their uniform to wear skirts, which we too were asked to where that day).   After that enough children came for me to have a class and the two Germans, a second group. In some ways they had a more difficult time as their kids were younger, but still had more English than we expected.  I Partly because of my ever diminishing voice, I got to work more with the Balinese support staff, and we made a great team.  Riding back in the car to our base, I was completely buzzing, prepared the next day, ate and then crashed out. By the last day I had virtually no voice at all, I was on steroids, anti biotics and cough medicine, all so I could actually leave the country on schedule but I did it.  And for that I am very proud,  I could not have done it though with out my Balinese support,  a young woman not long out of school.    She was the real star, who helped an old woman have a happy time.  

My departure, almost did not happen.  I tried getting roaming on my phone, but failed, so in the end one night found myself ringing insurance in England at cost price.  They could not hear me properly but basically said get a no fly letter, which was not what I wanted to hear. I actually felt so ill I wanted to hear I could fly back to England if necessary so a no fly letter, would scupper that and mean a very sick woman having to find somewhere to stay till better and everything else collapsing.  But because I was with the organisation, they took me to a lovely woman doctor, working at 8 pm, who I more or less got to speak with straight away,  she could speak good English and did lots of checks, and prescribed the meds and gave me permission to fly onto Singapore  as it was only a short way away.  By the time I flew out, it was hard to tell I had even been ill, which was good as my brother had basically said if you are ill in Singapore, I can't meet up with you.  Given he was one of the main reasons for the journey I was very relieved to arrive at my third destination and to be met by him at the airport.   

Hugs, calm waters and a sore throat.

 Someone gave me a hug today,  someone who has had a much tougher life than me and they took the time to help me,  makes such a difference in life.   And I bumped into someone I like and then also heard from another kind, person, after several weeks of not really getting out, this pre Christmas period re-engaging with colleagues in Herts Welcomes Refugees and the Green Party has been lovely. Virtual signalling, virtue signalling, virtue signalling.  

Bali could also be said to be virtue signalling but really it was more to do with me being selfish, I wanted to have one last go of doing something important, but as much for me as for those who might in the process benefit.  I wanted to spend time in a classroom and to just also be in one place in another country in a way that would mean getting to know the place.  I had tried in Thailand to get volunteer work, but it had failed so in the end I just had a holiday there, but I wanted to try one more time, to do something similar so this time I went through what for me was a better organisation and I just arranged something small,  a week's cultural experience and a week volunteering in a school.   Because it was Indonesia, relatively cheap,  I could afford to choose to stay in a hotel whilst doing the experience, but I also had the backup of the organisation which turned out to be very helpful.  

I was not going there as a tourist so did not need to travel around, but several people told me Bali was not worth visiting now as it had lost its beauty, and for two and a half hours of the taxi journey across the island which was basically solid traffic, I could see why they might be saying that, but then we went up into the mountains, everything was lush and green and then down into Lavina, and found my final location, 3 minutes from the beach.   The organisation I went with is American, and I guessed most of the other volunteers would be native English speakers like me as we were there to teach English speakers from the States and the UK.  Instead I was with a whole bunch of enterprising young  German women.  They were staying in dorms, some arrived the same time as me and we spent the next two weeks together, some had arrived before hand and were already teaching or working on other projects.  They were all always kind and curteous but understandably had more in common with each other, even though they did not know each other until they arrived.   Many hoped to be teachers and were able to get invaluable experience over the many weeks they volunteered there mostly working in the kindergarten or school.   Then for each of the two weeks I was there, there was also an English speaker, one with her daughter from Aus and the other from America and, we had an easier connection but everyone was lovely.  

And then there were the Balinese.   And that was the really great thing, the Balinese, they organised the event and ran the event.   Most of the time a strict young woman was in command, which I thought was brilliant but all our drivers were men.   The first week we were put through our paces learning some Indonesian and lots about cultural values, they also organised cooking classes, making offerings, took us to a temple and wonderful hot spa, and Balinese dancing and gamelan.    I loved the hot spa, but only one of the younger women fancied it, I think everyone thought because it was hot and the weather was hot, then they would be exhausted by it, but it was amazingly refreshing.  The organisation also helped us arrange a boat trip to see the sunrise and dolphins. We all loved swimming with dolphins, I choose not to actually swim with them, I was just in the boat, and it was not completely swimming with them, but one could be in the water at the same time as them. One of the women was almost a professional swimmer, she was amazing, but of course not as amazing as the pods of dolphins around us.  I think we all were surprised by how many boats there were out at sea, because the actual location was very quiet with very few tourists, and as far as we could tell the dolphins were not panicked by our presence, but it was not quite what we had anticipated.  So a lesson for all of us.  However, what an amazingly beautiful thing to do.  We were also treated very seriously by the dancers and musicians in the special school we attended.  So that was a special experience for all of us and what was nice was being all in it together.  

In between activities, we could swim, eat the three meals provided, rest, read go down to the beach or in my case along to the hotel just down the beach for a coffee und kuchen.   I loved just looking at the water it was so calm.   Perfect.      So almost everything one wanted, except  by Thursday I was champing at the bit to get a bit more involved and to find out about the teaching, but also concerned in case it was too much for me.    And by the third day, possibly because of the snorkeling, I had a very sore throat and people were beginning to automatically bring me ginger tea when they heard my cough.  Everyone knows about Balinese belly, but by the weekend, it was clear I was ill, with Balinese cough.  I cancelled my planned visit to a coffee farm in the mountains and tried to focus on being well for the Monday and the teaching, but really struggled alone in my room at night, awake and unable to rest. Being ill is never nice, but being ill and feeling alone away from home is definitely worse.  

Sydney shines, life grinds.

 Sometimes one feels just so sad, one doesn't know how to cope.  Today I have picked up a paint brush to paint a wall, but have had to stop just to feel.  There's no one I can talk to about it, as the person involved can't be castigated, I itch to put something on the Facebook comment that they alone started something, and they alone are impacted by their chooses,  as that simply isnt true, but really there is nothing that one can do when things hurt so much other than to go through it and know at some point the hurt will mostly lie fallow as one gets back on the horse, to mix my metaphors.  Coming so soon after other hurts to the most important person in my life, it feels too much.  But really I have to remember I am just a bystander really, even though I am impacted and I need to try and get over my own hurt to support others, and maybe one day even understand what has happened. 

Prior to travelling to Australia my main feeling was disgust, the flags flying around in my area, just confirmed how racist a country we are.  I just wanted out, to get away.  Australia's own history of racism is appalling but of course it is mostly our racism trasported elsewhere.  Back in Sydney though, with the sun shinning and people from all over the world basking in pleasure, it is easy to forget how tough the start was for Europeans and how damaging it was to the existing residents. So on my final day in Sydney I was amazed and grateful to discover what I thought was the open market below the Sydney Harbour Youth Hostel turned out to be a free event hosted by the local museum.  Music, cooking, free access to old buildings were all part of the event, listerally on the door step.  Then I found the Rocks Discovery museum that reflected the life of the tribes who had formerly lived in the Rocks area and how their world was submergered below layers from other cultures as people from all over the world moved in.    I also puttered over to the Royal Opera house again and this time saw their light show dedicated to the tribes and animals of the harbour area.  As a tourist it was both sombre and illuminating and the perfect way to round up my visit to Australia.   

In Sydney I knew virtually no one, though one of my sister's friends, who now lives there, kindly had brunch with me one morning. Also the other residents in the Youth Hostel kept themselves to themselves, which is somewhat unusual especially when we  even did yoga together overlooking the harbour, but the hostel itself, the location was so good,  I would recommend it to anyone.   The building has an open atrium, from the top floor, you step out to an amazing view, and underneath there is an archeological site.  In Sydney I happily sat alone on Manly beach or in the park just taking it all in.   I enjoyed it all.   However, in Bali I knew would be very different,  as I would be with an organisation and others, though I did not realise how different it would be till I got there.