When you’ve lived the life of a gypsy, on a boat, in southern Turkey for a couple of years and have had scant access to the delights of western commercialism in one of its purest forms, it’s a little disconcerting to find yourself in a shopping mall… at Carrefour… next to Debenhams and round the corner from Ikea.
To say we went a little mad is probably correct. We stocked up on all the usual essentials like Branston Pickle, bacon, blue cheese, Worcestershire Sauce, Alphabetti Spaghetti, magnetstrips-ovengloves-pillowprotectors-patternedglasses-collapsiblethreeleggedstools-squeakymice-bignotepads-smallnotepads-Bicbiros-kitchentaps-fishinglures-bendybuckets… rewind… Bendy buckets? Yep, BENDY BUCKETS! We found them. Oh joy. Oh wonder of wonders. We have joined the Bendy Bucket Gang. Now we feel like proper cruisers. Apologies to non-cruisers to whom this will mean nothing, but please just be happy for us.
Trish and Jim, with whom we spent most of our time in Cyprus, were given the loan of a car by some kind friends who live in the North. We made good use of it, traveling back and forth with them, across the Green Line, to every emporium the island has to offer. It was a positive orgy of gratuitous shopping on both sides of the border. Suffice to say that we have enough provisions for 2 months and can sit on our 3 legged stools, feverishly writing in our large and small notepads with our Bic biros, while eating tinned spaghetti and failing to catch anything with our new lures. Now that’s what I call the good life.