Ordering Coffee... oooof!

Me: Hi, I’d like a coffee

Barista: What type?

Me: What type do you have?

Barista: Frappe, latte, frappe-latte, frappecino mix, frappecino-cappucino-mix, macchiato, frappecino, cino, soda-cino, whiskey-cino, water-cino, water-cino with extra water

Me: What’s the difference between a frappe and a frappecino-mix

Barista: The frappecino-mix is mixed, the frappe isn’t. Duh!

Me: Erm… I’ll have a frappecino-mix please

Barista: Hot, cold, lukewarm, mild, wild, freakishly-cold or so hot it can burn your lips off?

Me: Tough one, but as it’s summer I’ll go for a cold frappe

Barista: Cold-cold, extra-cold, regular-cold, freezing-cold, snow-cold or warm-cold?

Me: Erm… normal cold please

Barista: Size?

Me: Erm… what do you have?

Barista: Grande, super, large, medium, small, medium-small, shot or 3.5 litres

Me: Erm... Grande please

Barista: Grande-grande, super-grande, medium-grande, extra-grande, regular-grande, small-grande?

Me: Okay... what’s the difference between grand-grande and medium-grande, isn’t that just a large?

Barista (looking at me as if I told her that her mother had a tail): There is a big different between grande-grande, medium-grande and large. Medium-grande is slightly less grande than grande-grande and a little more grande but not much than large.

Me: Phew. Well… okay, I’ll take a grande-grande I guess

Barista: With what?

Me: What does it come with?

Barista: Ice, extra-ice, extra-low-fat-ice, cream, whipped cream, low-fat cream, regular-cream, cherries

Me: Is there a difference between ice and extra-ice?

Barista (looking at me as if I just said her father is a cross-dresser): There is a big difference between ice and extra-ice in your grande-grande frappecino-mix than if you had less ice.

Me: Okay I’ll have extra-ice then please.

Barista: Anything to eat?

Me: What do you have?

Protaras Baby!

So I went to Protaras for the second time in my life last weekend. I loved Protaras. I think it’s great. Like a mini Limassol just for fun, or perhaps it’s more like Nicosia-by-the-sea and classier English tourists (the trashy kind go to Napa). Anyway, Protaras is fun, even the pavements are fun!

But because it’s fun it’s also busy. So busy in fact that you need to get up at the a$$-crack of dawn just to get a bed by the beach. By 9am, if you’re not on the beach and have no bed, you might as well go home and organize your cupboards.

Well, we went out on Saturday and didn’t get back to the hotel until 7am. Everyone wanted to sleep and then go to the beach. I warned them that they would not get up if they slept in the bed and it was better to sleep on the beach like all normal party-people but no one heeded my warnings (and believe me, I know about these things, I used to be an international party boy). But the were asleep without even having finished my sentence.

At 12pm we head to the beach and stand there staring with our mouths gapping, except me who was trying not to smirk. The only people who can navigate Protaras (even better than people from Protaras) are Nicosians. In fact, I think Nicosia should become another municipality of Nicosia, it’s the Capital-by-the-Coast. I was with Lemesians, and I swear to you, Limassol people are only good for communing in Limassol. I hate it when my Limassol friends get lost in Nicosia; they have more chances of finding their destination in the Labyrinth of the Minotaur. So you can imagine dealing with Lemesians in Protaras who have no clue of where anything is (excluding the beach- and that’s only because they know what it looks like, having a beach in LMS) but think they do.

‘What? No bed?’ was the response. We scoured Fig Tree Bay (FTB) for beds but you couldn’t even find one. People actually went to the shops to buy umbrellas. Then we went to the one next to FTB, is it called Sunrise? Whatever it is called, there were no beds. Surprised? I wasn’t. The others were.

What do you frigging expect at 12pm on a Sunday in June? An empty beach? You personal water-boy? Endless expanse of sand? The sea was packed, and with so many people on the beach you could barely see the colour of the sand.

Chilling out is like everything in life. You have to be organized. If the others wanted a bed so badly, then get up and get one. Don’t go to sleep and expect to find one when you get up. You have to work for it. A bed isn’t going to magically appear. And if you arrive and there is no bed, don’t moan. You didn’t think, then you need to deal with it. I then suggested sitting by the pool but the others went for the golden beaches of Protaras. They certainly got it, all because they didn’t bother.

I had a great weekend, but by the end of it I was sick of the sea and wanted the pool (most Lemesians go to the pool; the only people in Cyprus who enjoy and appreciate the beach are Nicosians). Anyway, I left at 3pm just before traffic. When I got home, I experienced that warm feeling when you’re away for (what feels like ) a long time; when you’re back in your habitat, surrounded in your comfort zone, with your personal belongings and wrapped in silence. The blinds were drawn, the house was quiet and it was nice to sit there on the balcony with lemonade and fruit – doing nothing but enjoying the moment (and then reading a magazine; Nitro with Vissi on the cover). I had a good time in Protaras but I was so happy to be back in Nicosia. I missed my newly adopted city and I missed sitting in a real bed, minus sand – even if it is golden and soft.

Screaming Baby // Shhh... I'm eating Sushi!

So what do you do when a baby is bawling in a restaurant? I was a enjoying a delightful sushi meal with the Nicosia Housewife the other day when this baby started screaming its head off. The parents did nothing. There wasn’t even a Yiayia around to deal with it (because we all know many ‘modern’ Cypriot parents don’t blink an eyelid). Everyone was put off by this baby’s screaming. Even my sushi turned sour. The restaurant did nothing. If I had ordered spaghetti I would have flicked it at them from across the restaurant, but it was sushi and throwing sushi at irresponsible parents is akin to sacrilege – you never throw sushi away!

But what surprised me was that the management did nothing. Nothing? Yes. Nothing. When I worked in a bar in Manchester, we got three women, come in one Sunday afternoon, drunk/stoned/high/ or all three. They did not stop laughing and cracking jokes and literally howling in their seats. I thought they were hilarious. Everyone else hated them. My boss got so upset with them that he told them to be quite. They were for a bit and then they left. Maybe to get another hit.

Why do not that with the family and their screaming-baby? Because they are worried that they’ll leave? What about the rest of the customers then?

Disputed Art

The British Museum’s argument is that the Parthenon Marbles can be viewed as part of the world civilization whereas in Athens only as Athenian civilization. However the reason for seeing the Marbles as part of a discourse on the world’s various civilizations is because the British Museum has various artifacts from all over the world; due to colonization. Yet this argument is redundant, thanks to globalization. Tourism is a phenomenon of globalization; and as more people pour into Athens they would be able to see the whole Frieze in the context it came from. To see part of Marble in Athens juxtaposed alongside pieces of Rome and Egypt may lend a momentary insight into what the world has produced in terms of art and civilization but it is completely out of scope and context - especially when you leave the museum and step into the London drizzle.

The Girl who didn't know what she wanted (and I dated)

I dated a girl, who literally did not know what she wanted. She kept me hanging on months, to finish her studies to start dating, and then she decides she doesn’t know whether she wants to be in a relationship. This is how one conversation would progress:

Me: Do you want to go out?

Her: I’m so tired

Me: For an hour?

Her: Where.

Me: Chinese.

Her: Which area?

Me: Centre.

Her: They have a Chinese there?

Me: They have Chinese food everywhere!

Her: Hmmm… who are you going with?

Me: With you.

Her: Really?

Me: Would I lie?

Her: Do you lie?

Me: Do I look like I lie?

Her: I don’t know. I’m sooooo tired.

Me: Well do you want some coffee?

Her: You want to go for coffee instead? I thought you said Chinese

(At this point I should have slammed the phone down but I didn’t)

Me: No I mean have coffee to wake up and go to Chinese

Her: Hmmm…

Me: So?

Her: So what?

Me: Chinese?

Her: I’m too tired. Can I let you know?

Me: When?

Her: Later. Tired. Yawn.

By 10pm I still didn’t know what our plans were. When I asked her about it a few days later she said that she feel asleep because she was tired. As if she didn’t mention that in the conversation.

Facebook Eliminations

I have to admit that I have about 50 ‘friends’ on facebook who I don’t even want on, but don’t want to erase them as I still want to see what they’re up to. It’s like spying. So if you are reading this and are my facebook friend and hate me, then please delete yourself, as you’re probably boring anyway. If your life was that interesting I’d be in it, so I wouldn’t need to see what you’re up to either way. Thanks

Different countries send their politicians to Brussels for different reasons. Berlusconi treats the EU Parliament as a fashion show sending the best looking female MEPs on a passarella. France knows that it doesn’t need to control the EU from Brussles, and can easily do it from Paris, so send its unwanted MPs to Brussels before throwing them out of politics. The Poles and Brits want to the out of the EU so send their extreme-Right Wing politicians who are so Right they’re Left… and Cyprus…. Ooof!

With Cyprus, I have never seen such a fuss over the European elections. For three days all we saw were politicians celebrating, and saying they ‘came first’ before the results were already announced. So the EU’s 3^rd smallest nation has 6 seats which means 6 MEPs. Big deal. If they can’t pass laws in their country do they think they’ll pass these laws in Brussels? Heck no. The fuss, the waving of the flags, the speeches, the ceremonies, the interviews, all that over 6 measly seats in the EuroParliament. And the fighting of the parties… Did someone forget to tell them that they are in Brussels for Cyprus, not for the Left of the Right.