Cyprus Remembered

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Cyprus Remembered

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Post by PoshinDevon »

Amongst the thread of chidhood memories a number of people have been posting about their childhood memories of Cyprus from years gone by.

There has been a suggestion that perphaps a separate thread be started purely for those who have memories of Cyprus from childhood, teenage or earlier years. It does appear that there are a few of us! It appears that memories go back to the 1950s or possibly earlier. My memories started in 1970.

Another suggestion was to get these memories compiled and maybe even pull them all together to form a book..... a big task but it could happen. We would of course need to organjse ourselves if this were ever to come to fruition.

In the meantime even if the book does not happen please use this thread if you have memories of Cyprus as a child, it will be an interesting thread whatever happens.

Unless anyone objects, those that have already posted childhood memories of Cyprus on the Childhood Memoris thread I will move them to this thread.....let me know if you would prefer this not to happen.
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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by silverfox1 »

Maybe this is a little inconsidered especially if the poster considers the childhood memories for all of the Turkish Cypriots who are over the age of 45!
I am sure the locals do not wish to go back to that time and place again so some respect should be shown and a little more thought given by mods in stirring up bad memories.
This of course is purely my opinion.

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Post by kaiserphil »

There used to be a website called something like "Return to Famagusta, Cyprus", but goodness knows what happened to it.

It was full of happy, and not so happy, memories.

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Post by munchy »

I was a bewildered 14yo when I was transported to Cyprus in 1965. My experience during the next 3+years subsequently formed my special relationship with Cyprus. The times in S Cyprus and N Cyprus have been interesting and positive and any possible future print would reflect this. I consider myself a member of a SMALL GROUP OF FORTUNATE people who have experienced life somewhat removed from the norm that I think people would find interesting. Of course there are other members of this Forum who also have fantastic personal experiences particularly from the 80s. Maybe the forming of some Society in NC with date and venue would be a start

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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by Ragged Robin »

POSH: Yes, please , you can transfer mine to this thread.

Silverfox; If you read the Childhood Memories thread, you will see that far from being discourteous or offensive to the locals, and that those who have contributed so far are very supportive of the Turkish Cypriots and the TRNC and the book would be intended, without going into individual cases, to correct misapprehensions and misrepresentations of what happened by people who were in effect independent witnesses. I think it would also highlight some of the attractions of the Island which could only be beneficial for an island which has to rely on visitors for a large part of income.

However you raise a valid point that we should perhaps get some Cypriot input, and ideally contributors, and may need Government approval. wonder if Soner has read this and the other thread and has some guidance.

After all there must be thousands of books of memories of thousand of of wars , some still taking place, and certainly within living memory. and it is important for the future that we learn of the mistakes of the past. There are several books already about the Cyprus issues but some are rather dry and hardgoing and a more personal slant might get more attention. At least it might help newcomers to understand where the Cypriots are "coming from" and be less critical of their hosts.

The only people so far who have come in for serious criticism are the BRITISH Government and their part is a matter of hard and recorded fact!

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Post by PoshinDevon »

Silverfox - The Cyprus Remembered thread was created because it was clear there are a few of us who spent our childhood on the island. It was also clear that those of us who spent our childhood on the island in the 50s, 60s and 70s had many happy memories and these have stayed with us over the years. It is these memories which have drawn us back all these years later.

So as not to hijack the childhood memories thread it was suggested we have our own thread. I created the thread and named it Cyprus Memories. It was not created to stir up bad memories it was created purely for those of us who spent time on the island as children and have something in common could share happy memories. As I created the thread and have contributed I will be keeping a close watch and moderating accordingly.

I hope this gives you a better understanding why this thread has been created. Its main aim is to share special, happy memories.

Munchy and Ragged Robin - Thanks for your input, you have summed up my thoughts as well. Not sure how far this thread will go, but please feel, free to share your memories of special times on this beautiful island.
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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by kaiserphil »

Spot on Posh!

One of my happy memories is of sunbathing on the beach at Salamis, great days.

Another is of falling out of some bar or "nightclub" in Famagusta ("The Spitfire" springs to mind), and following our noses to Pavlo's, otherwise known as "Smokey Joe's", where they cooked pork and beef steaks over charcoal.

Who could resist?

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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by silverfox1 »

As someone said, 'fiddling while Rome burns' does spring to mind but as this Moderator is now running this excellent Forum I will refrain from posting on this subject again as it would appear there is only one opinion (and not for the first time) thats counts.

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Post by Johnny Lee »

Nice idea, look forward to viewing this, a book would be excellent with lots of photo's.

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Post by munchy »

Final Bell sounds at Bridlington SM ( not quite as melodious as the one behind The Courtyard Inn) on a glorious summer day. Mates in tow, we head for the Promenade only one thing in mind, Big Ice Cornet with Hundreds&thousands from "Frenchies" near the Harbour wall. Hey, where's CYPRUS? I hope you'll like it there. Don't know, somewhere near Africa I think. Conversation returns to the "Ciggy Cards" and to whom I was going to bestow my considerable collection. Dad has checked the dreaded INVENTORY for the umpteence time and Mum is hovering around the final "Tea Chest" pushing in the last essentials for our departure to Cyprus. The journey by the wonderful glistening VC10 (or was it the Comet?) was soo exciting. Arriving in Akrotiri we stepped off the plane to a Hot Breeze which took my breath away.--------------

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Post by Ragged Robin »

Silverfox : It was I who said "fiddling while Rome" burns and I was reminding myself as much as others that we needed to remember with respect the sufferings of others whilst recounting our own happy memories. Life would be sad indeed if we could not do both. It should also be remembered that some of us , and our families, were also in some danger at the times concerned, and there were problems which make those of today seem trivial..

I was also responsible for starting to take the "Childhood Memories" off topic, and suggested a new thread be started. I could not move posts myself and am grateful to Posh (maybe only a Moderator can do it) for doing it. Maybe when he puts the relevant posts on this thread,you will understand better what is (only very, very tentatively at the moment) being considered.

I do hope, whether the book goes ahead or not, people will post their memories of the old days here and help newcomers learn more about the Island.

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Post by Soner »

"What an extraordinary feeling; stepping off the aircraft stairs on to the scorching Nicosia ground, it felt as if the rubber soles of my shoes were at melting point. I was used to the more temperate climes of my London home and nothing had prepared me for these temperatures."

"We made a left turn on to a narrow road that would only take one and a half cars side by side, at a squeeze. Every time a car approached our taxi from the opposite direction, its driver and ours would slow down and manoeuvre their vehicles, half on the road, half on the roadside dirt track, in order to pass safely. Used to London’s broad and bustling thoroughfares, we watched each manoeuvre with trepidation and fascination.
On the way to İpsillat the road passed through several villages, which effectively prepared us for the kind of place we were heading for. To our young eyes, the houses looked incredibly old and run down. We passed odd-looking shops without the familiar glass frontages, and cafés where old men sat on chairs made from wood and hand-woven straw, drinking coffee from tiny cups.
Although the weather struck us as searingly hot, the men wore trousers, long-sleeved shirts and jackets as they sat outside the cafés playing backgammon, chatting loudly, emphasising their points with expansive hand gestures and slamming the backgammon pieces aggressively down into the box to show opponents and spectators they were playing a serious game. In the near-empty streets, the women were dressed in long-sleeved tops, long skirts or flowery dresses, and their hair was covered with headscarves. This was a very different style to the mini skirts, platform shoes, wide collars and flared trousers that were fashionable in London at the time.
It took no more than a few seconds to pass through each tiny village. In between these settlements lay expanses of flat, arid, open farmland with the occasional, still-as-stone tree breaking the horizon. As we gazed through the taxi’s windscreen, we could see waves of hot air shimmering and dancing above the hot tarmac."

"Her skin was tanned by the fierce sun and her grey hair – three-quarters covered by a headscarf with little round balls of cotton sewn round the edges – had tones of orange from the henna she used to dye it. Like many Turkish women she loved her gold, and on her wrist clanked a profusion of golden bangles . Her clothing was simple: long skirt, loose top, a pair of slippers.
As I inspected my new surroundings in the house and outside, I had the extraordinary feeling that I had stepped back a hundred years in time. On the village’s dirt roads, occasional passers-by riding donkeys raised thick clouds of dust. The little house had no lights and, even in daytime, seemed gloomy to someone who was used to the bright lights of Balham. The floors were laid, far from evenly, with stone slabs and the walls were made from mud and straw bricks that were rendered with cement and plastered haphazardly on the inside.
There was no TV – quite a shock for us London kids – and the house’s only electrical appliance was in the living room: a fridge-freezer whose large metal handle was wrapped with cloth. My puzzled questions about the cloth were answered: you were in danger of electrocution if you weren’t careful when opening the door."

"We continued our tour and after about three minutes came to the edge of the village. How small İpsillat seemed compared to the endless cityscape of our home.
At the edge of İpsillat was the Kahve (coffee house), where the men and boys of the village gathered to chat, play backgammon, table football or cards and drink alcohol, coffee or pop. We pulled up some seats and ordered Coca-Cola and Bubble Up (a Turkish Cypriot soda drink, an imitation of 7 Up), which came in old recycled glass bottles with wax-coated paper straws.
We sat there for a good while, watching the occasional antiquated vehicle pass by on the dirt road and taking in the arid landscape and new smells that hung in the air. Even the sounds around us seemed a world away from those of London."


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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by munchy »

Bravo Soner, this is what we are looking for, the Human aspect from different perspectives

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Post by PoshinDevon »

Thanks for input so far. Back in UK for a quick weekend visit. However I had plenty of time on the flight to recall special memories so as and when I get a moment I will begin to post.

Think this could well make excellent reading....thanks Soner for your input. I purchased your book a while back and spent the whole of a flight out to N Cyprus reading it. Great stuff.
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Post by PoshinDevon »

THE JOURNEY BEGINS

It was the autumn of 1969 when Dad who was serving in the RAF arrived home to announce that he was posted to RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus.....he seemed pretty pleased. For me being a shy 12 year old boy the importance of this pronouncement never really hit home. We lived in a small Cambridgeshire village, I played football with my mates, rode my bike and did my best to stay out of trouble. That was my life. 

For some reason at school I was being asked to take lots of tests and had some interviews with strange different teachers, I knew not why. What I did not know was that my Dad was considering boarding school for me....better for my education so he thought! My I was nieve!  I suppose I must have passed some tests as piled up on the kitchen table were large envelopes which I later found out were school prospectuses. However; also on the table, were lots of letters from Dads sponsor. The sponsor was the person Dad was taking over from at RAF Akrotiri and it was the sponsors role to not only give details about the job but also explain all about life on the island of Aphrodite. Naturally schooling was an area my Dad was keen to know more about and he was told that St Johns School at RAF Episkopi was a very good school indeed. These letters along with no doubt some ear bending from my Mum must have convinced Dad - I would be going to Cyprus after all. I had been reprieved. 

It was now February 1970 and on a cold, grey winters morning our bags were packed, I had my favourite book with me and asna family we set off for our 2000 mile journey. First stop was RAF Lyneham to board our flight to the sun. No jet for us as we clambered aboard the old four propellered Brittania. Shortly after midnight the roar of the engines set us on our way for a five hour flight. As I was nearly 13 years old I was determined to stay awake all the way. Good job I did as somehwhere over Italy the air steward asked if I would like to  meet the pilot, to right I would. I sat mesmerised in the cockpit for 30 minutes looking at the dials, talking to the pilots and navigator whilst watching the twinkling lights drift slowly by some 25000 feet below. Just as it was getting light we slowly descended down towards Akrotiri touching down around 7am.

The aircraft doors were open and February suddenly got a lot hotter! As we stepped out into the Cyprus sunshine there was a smell in the air, I could not place it but its something I will always remember and its always reminds me of Cyprus each and every time we return. We strolled across the tarmac and whilst I did not realise at the time, the Cyprus love affair was about to start. There were three and a half years to go, years that would be packed with so many memories that would shape my life.
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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by Ailsa »

Loved reading your stuff Posh. I had a slightly similar introduction to Cyprus from 1969 until 1972. We were stationed at Episkopi and lived in South Paramali. I went to boarding school, but I wish I had gone to school in Cyprus !!!! However I loved my flights 3 times a year from either Lyneham or Brize Norton. On either the VC 10's or a Hercules!!!!! Yes, St Johns was a great school. My Father was the command education officer for the Near East. Group Captain Angus McIntosh. I just loved being there and like you the smell when you got off the plane was just fantastic. Also driving away from Akrotiri seeing the flamingos on the salt lake was amazing. My Dad was always there at the bottom of the aircraft steps to welcome me back! But hated it one time when I arrived at age 18 or 19 apparently wearing a see through dress with no bra!!!! and gladiator sandals. His exact words were" Diana you will have us thrown off the island!!!! "Hmmmm! Slight exaggeration maybe!!!! I also remember that a lot of " do's " were held at Niazzis in Limasol where Ahmed's Dad started the first restaurant!!! Look how successful it is now!!!! Have loads of photos of those times. I, like you,, just fell in love with the place, which is why I returned in 2002 and bought an apartment. My Dad once said that " The Turkish Cypriots are the nicest people in the world" Yes, loads of things have changed, but I still love it and it is my second home! Another memory is getting thrown off a polo pony in Happy Valley!!!! But then I had never been on a horse before!!!! Long story. My Dad is still alive and will be 96 this August. Am so proud of him as he flew Mosquitos in the war and was awarded the DFC. I look forward to reading more of your posts and any more from other people when they share their memories. All just so touching and so real. Kind regards Ailsa.

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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by PoshinDevon »

Ailsa - Glad you are enjoying this thread. I am going to try and post every couple of days my personal memories of special days. Hopefully others will do the same. They were very special times which I love recalling.
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Post by Ailsa »

Excellent Posh. I am sure that I could put on a few more as well. Regards Ailsa

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Post by PoshinDevon »

EARLY DAYS

With the sun shining we strolled out of the arrivals terminal and boarded the RAF coach and set off to Limassol town some 30 minutes drive away. Looking out of the coach windows we saw a different world, there was the salt lake complete with pink flamingoes, goats were roaming in fields and donkeys were walking with loads on their backs. The road was then surrounded by trees on each side, we were travelling thro the plantation area with orange, lemon and grapefruit trees as far as the eye could see. All the trees were laden with fruit and there were lots of people out picking and loading the fruit into trailers. Arriving in Limassol we pulled up outside the Astir Hotel, unloaded cases and checked in. Breakfast was avaialble but by this time all of us were very tired so it was upstairs and bed!

Mid afternoon and zombie eyed we were up again and sat downstairs in the hotel reception waiting for transport to take us somewhere. Where that somewhere was I did not know. Off we go again and a short drive along Archbishop Makarios St and we arrived at a very busy office building. We were left to stand around outside on the street whilst Dad went inside. My it felt hot and this was only February. After a short while Dad returned with a cypriot man, we jumped into his car and shot off into the Limassol traffic. The cypriot man was to take us round to view some private hirings which would be our first home in Cyprus. Driving thro town, window open I could feel the warm air on my face, hear lots of car horns being blown and plenty of strange smells in the air. Our driver seemed to have a habit of flopping his arm out of the window gesturing to passers by or sometimes using his hand to hold the roof on. Sometimes he had no hands on the wheel at at all as he adjusted the car radio or played with worry beads hanging off his rear view mirror! After viewing a couple of places we turned down a small dusty street just off what was termed the bypass not far from the Tip Top toy shop and curium roundabaout. We pulled up outside a large house, with a garden, grapevines and small enclosure with some chickens running around inside and after another whirlwind tour Mum decided this was it....our first home. We would be living above the greek cypriot owners in a 3 bedroomed flat and had the run of their garden to play in. 

Over the next few days we settled in and experienced the generosity of the owners as they gave us oranges, sweet sticky puddings, olives, cyprus coffee and for Dad plenty of Anglais brandy! The owners daughter was the same age as me and could speak a little english, I of course could not speak any greek! However as kids do we managed to communicate and play together. She practiced her english whilst she taught me how to count in greek, something which has stuck with me over the years. Often of an evening myself and Dad would be invited down to watch football on the owners black and white TV....this was mens time! Dad would sit with a Keo beer and me with some Lanitis orange juice, peanuts and dried melon seeds and watch the game. Wafting thro the air was the smell of grilled pork on the bbq coming from the little man sat on the street corner. If I was lucky Dad would give me some cyprus mils and off I would trot to buy the men some souvlaki to wash down the beers and juice. Many a time Dad would wobble back up the stairs to our flat after an evening session with our greek cypriot host.

Easter arrived and in Cyprus this was cause for lots of celebration, eating, drinking and enjoyment. Our hosts were having a party with all their family coming to visit.....we would attend ........no arguments! We helped with the preparations and my job was to go into the chicken run and catch a chicken or two as they were a bit to speedy for our owner. In I went and soon came out smiling with a chicken to hand. In a split second the chickens head was on the slab, chopped off and its headless body left to run around for a few seconds - that was a bit of a shock! BBQ lit and the men gathered around drinking wine, brandy and beer with a coke for me......the ladies and girls were in the kitchen preparing salads, dips and puddings. A day of meeting so many people, having my blond head patted, eating fantastic fresh food and at the end watching those who maybe had drunk just a little to much join hands and dance to the bouzoki tunes coming from an old record player. What an experience, these Cypriots certainly knew how to enjoy themselves.
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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by munchy »

Episode 3
So, here we had this large garden. Lets grow grapes,lets plant potatoes,lets have orange trees. In the end my suggestion prevailed. MELONS!
Dad and I toiled in the Mid-day sun.How naive we were! Eventually our 4 Tier Terrace was complete. Watering the little babies became a huge obsession for me. I must say the amount of water which was required, may have led to a water shortage in Akrotiri!!!
Then, wow, from little marbles these 2 dozen or so miracles grew into green and yellow striped monsters. We ate melon morning, noon & night.
The Season was changing and we noticed the winds for the 1st time. Young Sis was sitting in the garden and, without warning,what can only be described as a Mini Tornado ploughed into Sis and knocked her into the fencing. We now realized that Mother Nature in this part of the World was something to reckon with and respect.------------

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Post by kaiserphil »

Posted to Cyprus from the disgraceful sh*thouse that was RAF El Adem in Libya.

For me, it was moving to a "land flowing with milk and honey".

Beautiful scenery, amazing beaches, fresh fruit and veg (what are those?), and, almost unbelievably, FRESH MILK!

It was like heaven to me.

I was posted to No 113 MU RAF, Nicosia, then onward the same day to Pergamos, then the following day to Ayios Nik. So I was stationed in 4 places in the space of two days!

And Ayios Nik was the best place I was ever stationed. Apart from being only 4 miles from Famagusta, we had 9 SR and 625 OD very close by, so 3 cinemas to go to.

A sixpenny bus-ride or 4 shilling taxi ride, into Famagusta and my favourite beach. What a life!

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Post by Strandfan »

Ailsa, have you thought of sitting down with your dad and a tape recorder/dictaphone and getting him to talk about his memories of Cyprus. He must have a unique perspective on the history of the island and it is wonderful that he is still with us. There's a whole book there.

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Post by Ragged Robin »

Memories of Cyprus

My father , an M & E Engineer with the Air Ministry managed to put off the almost obligatory tour of duty overseas while he had responsibilities , for parents and a child in full time education. However in 1963 with my Grandfather sadly dead, and I (having turned my back on University and academic career), had taken a commercial course and a job in publishing, he was attracted by colleagues’ descriptions of the good life abroad)he applied for a posting to Singaporel

He was promptly offered Cyprus, and assured that he problems of the Island were now over and it was a “safe family posting” – six months later the events of Christmas 1963 give a good indication of the failureof the British authorities as to what was going on.

on 8th June 1963 an extremely uncomfortable converted RAF Hercules with a faulty air con. disembarked a handful of hot, exhausted passengers, dressed for a particularly chilly English Spring, and desperate for a breath of cool fresh air, onto a steaming hot RAF Nicosia.
Fortunately we were met a colleague, who whisked us away through dusty streets , along a nearly deserted road and to a restaurant in pine clad foothills and revived us with our first introduction to Brandy Sours, home made lemon juice and a meal of meat cooked on charcoal, and thence to the colonial splendour and cool corridors of the Ledra Palace hotel.
I remember little of the journey but the smells of sea , unfamiliar herbage, pines and woodsmoke, lemons and kebabs were abiding.

Fast forward to 1994: Alone, bereaved and stressed - after a long and crowded commercial fight from Heathrow, I left the terminal building at Ercan Airport, (with the wrong suitcase!) took a deep breath, smelled the “unforgettable , unforgotten” smell of Cyprus and was overwhelmed by the incredible feeling of having come home.

Smell is one of the most evocative of the senses for memory, and another that says Cyprus to me is Jasmine. I the sixties when visiting a restaurant all the ladies were presented with a garlands of jasmine, it also happened in the early 90s but I dont recall it recently. Another of the local customs that have declined in the last 10 years?

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Post by munchy »

Very vivid and accurate description Ragged Robin. Would also mention the Lemon Cologne proffered after every meal !!

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Post by Ragged Robin »

Thanks Munchy - and for reminding about the Lemon Cologne - now that is something that is still available here, and very useful it is too, as well as freshening it can be used as an insect repellent and treatment for bites

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Post by munchy »

Episode 5
Berengaria, nestling in the foothills outsideof Limassol, was a small purpose built SM School. There was some rivalry with the "posh" boys at St Johns particularly during inter school games. It was here that I became a demon Bowler at a time when Cricket was just as popular as Football. Because of my size, I was pursuaded to Throw Javelin and Discus and partake in the Long jump, pursuits, usually reserved for the Higher end schools in England.
Daydreaming in History class I had a brilliant idea. I was going to search for Roman Graves in the "Bondu" and plunder them for riches. I set off alone, as I did not want to share my wealth, with shovel, spade& bucket. Some hours later , sprained wrist, legs cut to ribbons and severe sunburn, I returned empty-handed but filled with joy. I had witnessed the " RED ARROWS" at close quarters practicing their manoevres overhead. My first "get rich quick" scheme, was deemed a failure.---------

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Episode 6
Life was sweet, almost daily sojourns to my favourite outpost "Button's Bay". A long shadeless ankle deep sandy stumble to the bobbing pontoon tantalizingly anchored just offshore. It beat "Ladies Mile", the huge horseshoe shaped Beach ideal for babies, hands down.
" It's time you did something useful" thundered Dad. I've arranged for you to join the ATC. Visions of Boy Scouts eating beans out of a tin round a spindly fire sprang to mind.Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Less than a year earlier I was an 11plus failure living in a sleepy East Riding Seaside Town. Now I was being lifted into the bulbous body of the RAF Rescue Helicopter, for a spin along the peninsula. Following this, I found myself at the controls of the RAF Rescue Boat speeding through the water at full throttle toward Limassol. As a 15yo, I really thought I could be "James Bond"----------

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Post by munchy »

So sorry for the duplications, very tired!!!

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Post by PoshinDevon »

SCHOOL STARTS

First day at new school and at 12 years old I had no idea how many cherished memories it would bring many years later. St Johns School, RAF Episkopi a really fantastic experience. First shock was having to get up at 6am and standing at the bus stop by 6:30am to catch bus No 4 for the 30 min journey. I stood bleary eyed and in some shock, clearly I was a newbie as my whitey from blighty complexion and new uniform made me feel just a tad out of place. Bus pulled up and off we went, thro the orange and lemon groves with the smell of jasmine in the air. Lots of people about, why so early? Passing Kollosi castle the buses from Limassol and Akrotiri converged onto the best stretch of road around, aptly named the M1 a 3 mile stretch of smooth tarmac. Then it was a short climb up to Curium amphitheatre and rounding the corner it felt as if the bus was driving along the cliff edge as down below was curium beach and fantastic views out to sea. Soon we arrived at little England and Episkopi Garrison whereevrything had a slight colonial feel about it. Buses pulled up and it was then I realised what a large school it was....there were 40 buses parked up disgorging all manner of teenage life. There was a strict unspoken hierarchy onboard the bus, with the newbies and younger kids at the front of the bus and the older you were the more you progressed down the bus. Of course the main aim was to be appointed bus monitor with the granting of the back seat for your sole use....or if you were generous inviting your mates to join you! For me being new it was a seat at the front, but eventually I did reach the dizzy heights of the back seat 3 years later.

I was in form 2C, Canterbury House and house colours were green....with Mr Heaton as housemaster. I was assigned a minder to help me find my way around what seemed to me a maze of classrooms, some in a main building but the majority in tin huts located around the school site. First it was house assembly, after which children dissapeared in all directions for lessons. That is all children except me...my minder did a runner, was it some strange initiation or did they just not care but whatever I was left to fend for myself. So on day 1 I started my school life wandering around trying to find where I was supposed to be. The school, bell rang 40 mins later and lesson 1 was over, I had missed it. Luckily I tracked down my minder who reluctantly assumed his responsibilities and I was very determined not to let him get away.

It wa soon 10am, first break and most of the youngsters ran to the school tuck shop to join the queue, jostling and shoving to get inside and hopefully grab the infamous cream buns complete with fake cream With only 15mins for the break you needed to move quick if you were to be lucky enough to make your purchase and eat it before the next lesson started. There were only 2 short breaks each school day, the younger boys aka me went to the boys playground to let off steam, girls went to the girls playground to sit around and talk about boys and the older students went to the main playground to "socialise" with each other.

School normally finished at 1:30pm each day, however every Monday during the winter months everyone stayed on until 3pm...this we were told was to ensure we completed as many school hours per week as those back in the UK. However; these sessions were more relaxed and gave us kids the opportunity to do different things. In the early 70s cookery was a girls domain at school, but boys were able to have a go during these Monday afternoon sessions. I chose cookery and without really knowing it, this was the first of many positive influences this great school, had on me. Sometimes my culinary creations made it home but some were rightly shared with mates and scoffed on the bus on the journey home. My passion for cooking has stayed with me all these years later. To ensure fairness girls were given the chance to do metalwork and woodwork and would travel home with wooden letter racks and metal toasting forks which were often used to fend off annoying boys.

As the school day ended the hordes flooded out and climbed aboard the bus to head home. With 40 buses transporting children all over the area it was certainly a great logistical feat. Turning back onto the M1 all hell broke out as bus drivers started racing each other down the 2 mile straight encouraged by those on the bus, lets face it there were huge bragging rights at stake here - we all wanted the fastest bus! Of course completely irresponsible but great great fun.

Winter uniform was grey trousers, white shirt and grey pullover for boys and in the summer white short sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, socks and bondu boots. There was also the obligatory black bag complete with Cyprus map on the side to hold school books, packed lunch, smelly sports kit and love letters or notes.

So the normal day ended at 1:30pm which was a real plus as that left loads of time for socialising and doing what teenage kids wanted to do. The first school day was over but there were to be many other special memories to follow.
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass,it's about learning to dance in the rain

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Post by munchy »

Nice one Posh. Yes Happy Valley was really special. There was always something going on there and, invariably, it was always 5/6 degrees cooler than everywhere else. I recall the road over Curium was a bit dodgy especially after rain and , indeed, I know of one Military transport which Went over the top with serious consequences for the occupants.

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Post by munchy »

Episode 7
We were very much cut off from the outside World. We had a B&W TV which we could not understand. Newspapers were 3 or 4 days late and by then of little interest.
Thank god for the splendid BFBS I heard Mother exclaim. Sundays were not complete without the Motherly tones of Judith Chalmers presenting FAMILY FAVOURITES.
My prized Transistor Radio held other delights such as the weekly TOP OF THE POPS CHARTS programme. Presented by such luminaries as ; David Jacobs, Simon Dee, Kenny Everitt, Tony Blackburn and the now disgraced Jimmy Saville, my ears strained to the likes of ITCHYCOO PARK by the Small Faces followed by; The Who, The Sweet , The Kinks, The Searchers, The Tremeloes etc etc. Loved it !!
It was during these interludes when I really did feel , frustratingly, HOMESICK

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Post by PoshinDevon »

TEENAGE LIFE - PART 1

For our first 6 months on the island we lived in Limassol and as a newby teenager most of time out of school was spent playing with mates around their hirings, going to the beach, trips up Troodos, the Island Club and  weekly teenage disco.

The  famous Island Club in Limassol was a place where all the young people gathered. As well as the NAAFI shop, cafe and bar it also had a swimming pool and function rooms. However; the must attend event was the weekly teenage disco held every Friday. My first major problem was I needed some cool dude clothes of which I was sadly lacking and my short back and sides surely had to go. Dad of course did not really understand, but Mum fortunately did and with me in tow we trawled the shops to look for suitable clothing. A trendy green shirt was purchased, of course being a scrawny kid Mum's sewing skills were needed to take it in plus a pair of strides and the coolest pair of white pumps. As for the hair again Mum came to the rescue taking Dad to one side and explaining he needed to let go a little and the bi monthly trips to the barbers suddenly stopped.
Suitably clothed and mates in tow off we strutted to the disco. Of course at 13 years old, dancing with girls was not really that cool so most of the evening was spent playing table tennis or hanging around with a bottle of coke and crisps to hand. It was only as the last records were being played that things warmed up....girls would take the lead as they always did and by devious means would end up with a partner for a dance or two. Disco over we headed home just wanting the week to go by so we could do it all again.

Other socialising normally involved families getting together to go off to the beach or up the mountains. Beach trips were nearly always to Ladies Mile or occasionally Governers beach. Ladies Mile was out on the road towards Akrotiri, a 3 mile stretch of flat sandy beach where the sea was shallow for at least 100mtrs and the water felt like a hot bath. Beach days involved Mum packing up the coolbox, Dad loading the car with the paraphernalia needed for this expedition, lilo, chairs, umbrellas, beach balls etc. Dad's first car was commonly known as a "bondu basher", a beige coloured Renault 4 into which us three kids and all the gear was squeezed. Off we went eventually turning onto the sandy tracks and bouncing along until we found our spot. With 3 miles of beach it wasn't difficult. Sometimes a Hercules would fly over, the rear ramp down and mad people with parachutes would jump, out and float gently down landing on the dried up salt lake at the back of the beach. Returning home from the beach with sand and salt in every crevasse it was great to stand under the shower and watch the sand swirl around and down the plug hole, then to sit down outside on the patio feet up listening to BFBS. A Troodos trip was always welcome in the summer, the drive up along roads passing tiered hillsides with vines as far as the eye could see. In late August we would often be stuck behind a grape truck, groaning as it climbed up the hills with grape juice swilling out from the rear. As we reached Platres the vines were replaced by the smell of pine trees wafting thro cooler mountain air and then the last leg past the trout farm and up the narrowing road on the stretch known as the 7 sisters.....where the hairpin bends wound there way up past the Caledonian Falls to Troodos. 

There were many family evenings out, usually gathering at one of the many kebab houses located in the turkish quarter of Limassol. Everyone had a favourite and for us it was the Brittania Bar, others included Mahmouts and Avenida Gardens. Here we would be served huge meals, with many meat courses, where the salad was replaced as soon as the bowls were empty - the shredded cabbage was a great favourite. The smell of sheftalia, pork, liver, pork chop and chicken being slowly grilled on the hot coals is one of the many smells of Cyprus. Fruit followed for pudding along with free brandy and coffees. All would be washed down with with copious amounts of free Kokinelli wine or if feeling flushed Dad would splash out on St Panteleimon (Or St Pandemonium as it was commonly known as) or sometimes even some Keo beers. Under supervision Dad would fill a wine glass for me to try....it worked and I have enjoyed ever since.

Married quarters on camp were allocated on a strict points system and in September 1970 we packed our traps and moved onto RAF Akrotiri. No 9 Andrews Crescent would be our home for the next 3 years. Although I did not realise it, my teenage life was about to get even better.........
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass,it's about learning to dance in the rain

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Post by Ragged Robin »

Hi Posh

You threw me for a moment there - I had forgotten the "M1"! Does anyone have a photo of the buses they used in those days? I think there was a mention of them on an earlier thread?

btw I was looking for my earlier post on the Childhood memories about Evdhimou Jetty, to save repeating myself and to follow it up but it seems to have disappeared ! I though the relevant posts were going to be transferred here?

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Post by munchy »

Ragged Robin, The Akrotiri schoolbus was something special. These square shaped wagons, with windows that provided panoramic views, were used very early in the morning to transfer Livestock to Field. First schoolboys to alight thereafter, had the dubious pleasure of showering all latecomers with goat & sheep poo generously left behind by the precious cargo

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(2)In 1963 the storm clouds were starting to gather on the horizon, but the first few months were a halcyon time. As civilians we had to cope with dual culture shock: acclimatizing to the customs and practices of a new country and climate, and getting accustomed to the restrictions – and advantages – of a service life. As well as the sea and beaches, the Nuffield Trust offered a wide range of sporting activities, I settled for horse riding, tennis and squash. Later my mother was persuaded to join three other service wives at golf – from the fact they returned with armfuls of multi-coloured anemones I suspect that they spent more time in the rough than on the fairways and greens (or rather browns of packed earth)
(3) There were two cinemas available to us, one in the town of Limasol and one on Episkopi Base. Both were open air and it was lovely in the comparatively cool of the evening to sit and look at the stars (even then so much brighter than in the UK) if the film palled. I think it is a pity they don’t have open air cinemas here now. The choice of film was limited, I saw “from Russia with Love” three times(although that was possibly because I fancied Sean Connery). When I returned to live in the TRNC in 1996, there was no satellite or internet TV, but the local station, BRT, played an English Language film on Friday evening: one of the first I saw was “From Russia with Love”,
English newspapers were available in 1963 (presumably courtesy of the RAF) – during the internal communal problems we were to be made very angry by the totally inaccurate reports they contained of the “Cyprus Problems”
In l996 there were no English newspapers or magazines ( The availability of daily English papers didn’t reach the TRNC until about 2004) and visitors were encouraged to bring them and to collect any left on the ‘plane seats – they were eagerly awaited and passed round the English speaking community.
Back to the sixties: Members of the “Civilian Component” were given an equivalent R.A.F. Rank – mainly I suspect to allocate housing etc. At first we went into hired accommodation in Limasol – the first one was weird and in the middle of what was known as “Bondu” (scrub land) . The doors were concertina type sliding. I think my mother gave up when I lizard jumped from the top of one, landed on her shoulder and slid down her dress.
However we soon moved into a very luxurious ground floor flat owned by a local business man and his wife (from Athens) who occupied the first floor. They were real Anglophiles who had lived in America for several years, spoke good English and took us under their wing. The house had a large lounge with air conditioning which was quite a novelty then, and a small cosy sitting room with a log fire which we named “The Smoking Room” because the fire always did smoke the room out.

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Post by Ragged Robin »

munchy:I never had the pleasure (?) of seeing one of those. I was thinking of the open topped public buses of those days, often containing as many chickens and other livestock as humans!

I do remember the" grape lorries" : open topped and full to overflowing with loose grapes which leaked juice under the tailgate. During the season all the roads had signed "Beware Grape Juice on Roads" - it could be more of a skid hazzard than ice.

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Post by munchy »

Episode 8
Arriving at our Quarters in Akrotiri, I was confronted with a brand new Villa type building, so bright, so white so different! Having just left behind a pre-war Guest House type dwelling in a leafy Avenue, in a sleepy East Riding Coastal Town, this was not easy to take in.
The large fenced off scrub of a garden ,containing all manner of scurrying creatures, held my fascination. Not so Mother whose nerves had just been seriously shattered by the discovery of a snake lurking in the Toilet Bowl. Future trips to the bathroom entailed lengthy inspection, usually by fearless me. YEAH !!------

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Post by munchy »

Yes Ragged Robin you are right. They had a particular nickname which I cannot remember.
I recall both types maybe the luxurious ENCLOSED Model was especially reserved for the Berengaria mob!!

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Post by munchy »

Episode 9
I had been feeling quite uncomfortable "below decks" for some time now. Doctor finally confirmed I had a Strangulated Hernia.
Akrotiri's Queen Elizabeth? Hospital stood out like a solitary skyscraper from the top of Curium. Spotlessly clean and with views "to die for" it was the Staff that caught my eye.
Female Nurses (Real Women) in starched Uniforms being attentive to ME.
Being the only "Resident" teenager at this time, I felt generously "spoilt". I took some awful "Ribbing" from the older squaddies so when,two days after my "op" , I woke to the shock of my testicle having swelled to the size of a rather large grapefruit, the hilarity could be heard reverberating throughout the corridors. This was not the sort of fame I was seeking.-----------

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Post by munchy »

Episode 10
Hoorah, no school today. The Aircraft carrier "HERMES" was scheduled to make a courtesy stop off Limassol. Here we all were, lined up awaiting this special event, we were hot and we were bothered. Jokes about Capt Birdseye and Pugwash abounded.
Like a huge Goliath there she stood at anchor, this old "Warhorse" sitting proud against the blue and white horizon. In small groups we were ferried to the " Beast "
The crew had obviously been primed to make a fuss of us and we took full advantage. I had seen a bottle of Woods Navy Rum in Dad's Drinks cabinet and I had sniffed it's pungent odour. When the cheerful Sailor handed me his mug, I recognised this heady aroma, and in an effort to appear manly, I downed the concoction in double quick time. I was not the only poor sucker to be stretchered off the Ship after the PUSSER'S BLUE NAVY RUM trick.------------

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Post by PoshinDevon »

Hospital at Akrotiri was TPMH.... The Princess Marys Hospital.

Returning to Cyprus with the Army in 1983 both our children werevborn there! We lived in Dhekelia somas things started to happen we had to go to the medical centre in Dhekelia and they would assess how far into labour the wife was....if there was time we then drove the 60 miles down to Akrotiri!
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Post by munchy »

Thanks for the clarification Posh, I wasn't sure

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Episode 11
Life on " Camp" was generally Male orientated. Coupled with a distinct shortage of girls, during my stint at Akrotiri, there was stiff competition for the attention of the "fairer sex"
Having successfully talked myself out of the Family trip to Famagusta, arrangements were at hand to have a "House Party". Jack, Steve & I had saved enough to purchase 3 Bottles of EMVA CREAM Sherry.There was always Dad's drinks cabinet in case we ran dry. We had invited all the girls we knew, 5 I think, and anticipation ran high.
Steve turned up on time and we waited anxiously for the rest. We waited and waited and it soon dawned on us that the remainder had "chickened out " It was with utter disappointment that we opened our 1st bottle of EMVA CREAM. The aroma and the sweet nektar lulled us into drinking with abandonment until, after being violently sick, we fell into a drunken sleep on the kitchen floor. It was the first time that "The Earth had moved for me" but not in the manner I had hoped. Boy, was I in trouble.. To this day, just the mention of SHERRY makes me queasy.
Some two weeks later whilst listening to the 1966 World Cup on my beloved "Tranny", to my Horror , the walls shook, the bed I was on, and all other contents of my room slid to one end. I was experiencing my 1st EARTHQUAKE. You could say " the earth moved for me" yet again.----------

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Post by kaiserphil »

That happened when I was there, it would have been 1961 or 1962.

There was a huge crack down the wall of BMH Dhekelia.

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Post by PoshinDevon »

TEENAGE LIFE....CONTINUED

We had now moved onto camp and 9 Andrews Crescent was at the top of camp with the bondu behind. The married quarter was a 3 bedroomed semi made with what was affectionally called cardboard but was wood really, with a large garden and covered patio. The bondu was the first place to explore and with my new mates we made a race track thro the scrub and raced ourselves silly each afternoon......the rutted ground caused numerous tumbles and scratches but we never seem to notice till it was shower time and boy then did it sting. Also a short walk away was the infamous cliffs where we would go and hone our fishing skills and also those brave enough would jump from the cliffs into the clear waters below.

Opportunities for doing "stuff", being entertained or being kept busy were many and my first port of call was the 58th Akrotiri (Land) Scouts. Camping, hiking, abseiling, go karting, climbing, water skiing, canoeing were just some activities to try out. Camps were held either down at Happy Valley, the verdant green sports area at Episkopi or a trip to the distant lands of the Eastern Sovereign Base Area at Dhekelia. Not only were there the traditional scouting activities and competitions with other groups, we also fielded football teams, karting teams and of course along with all youth organisations we put in a team to do the horseshoe hike......but of this more later.

Youth Club figured highly and suddenly I was awakened to the fairer sex and music. Sounds of the early 70's included, T Rex, Slade, The Sweet and Bowie all mixed in with the sound of motown, The Four Tops, Diana Ross and the Supreme, The Drifters and many more. Pocket money was frittered away on 45s...every Saturday I would be off to camp centre to see if any new records had come in, it was some cuedos if you had the latest records even if by the time they reached Cyprus the tunes were drifting down the charts. Sunday evenings was the eagerly awaited top 20 programme.....we would regularly gather at the Flamingo Bar with our mates and be glued to the radio trying to second guess the number 1 sound. Next door to the Flamingo was the chippy which served to provide the staple teenage diet. Youth club was held twice weekly on Mondays and Fridays and it was here that relationships were made and broken. Surreptitious letters would be passed around, your mate or a girls mate would act as a go between and somehow eventually you would pair up with a girl. Normally you would then be inseperable for as long as the relationship may last, you would meet at school, after school, down the beach, at the pool, at each others houses or just strolling round camp. For both sexes it was like showing off a trophy, you had your girl and she had her boy!

Buttons Bay was about 3 miles from camp centre. In the summer we spent all our time at this idyllic sheltered beach complete with salt water pool, cafe and best of bests a pontoon anchored in the centre of the little bay. The school bus would drop you at home around 2pm, it was then a race against time to get changed, grab your swimming gear and rush out of the house to jump onto the beach bus wheezing its way round camp. The last bus back from the beach was at 6pm, often it was missed as we were swimming, jumping off the pontoon, listening to music or in deep discussion with a girl! The walk home from the beach was a long 3 miles, all the way alongsidethe runway.....but at least we could watch the planes coming and going. There was the fat albert aka Hercules, Canberras, Comets, Vulcanz and VC10s plus our favourite the Lightning. You had to shield your ears when these beauties took off.

As well as enjoying ourselves, as a young adult we were actively encouraged to contribute to the community. Our group would often be found in the St Andrews Church Hall, running the "Coffee Pot" cafe which served teas, coffees, soft drinks, sandwiches, cakes, penguin bars and my favourite cheese and tomato rolls. Again we were with our mates so it was not a chore, just another way to get together....plus we got free drinks and food! There was a junior youth club running and us oldies would help the youth leaders run the club, my job was DJ...perfect opportunity to educate these youngsters on the sounds of the 70s.

So what with being at the best school in the world and living on RAF Akrotiri camp life was very near perfect! 
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Post by PoshinDevon »

munchy wrote:Yes Ragged Robin you are right. They had a particular nickname which I cannot remember.
I recall both types maybe the luxurious ENCLOSED Model was especially reserved for the Berengaria mob!!
In the 70s the chicken buses as they were fondly known were still going strong...usually rammed full with people sat inside and then bags of fruit, boxes of chickens on the roof....there was a ladder to climb up omto the roof and also a drop down bit at the back which was also piled high with goodies. Often saw numerous goats on board ready to be taken away for the weekend bbq.

Our school buses had moved on a bit from the chicken bus but many still often resembled a charabang coachwith huge steering wheels and great long gear sticks. It took a real man to double the clutch to select a gear and get these old girls going!
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Post by karmels »

PD, these were old Bedford buses with wooden body, some are still running in Guzelyut as fruit pickers buses.
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Post by elkiton »

As there seems a fair amount written from the “My Dad” perspective, in 1969 – 1972 I was here as one of those “Dads” based at the 112 Missile Squadron, Paramali West, C/O Episkopi, living in a hiring between Limassol and Berengaria.....My second daughter was born here, off the camp and we had to rush her to the base to get her registered as a Brit whilst still a few hours old.
A couple of memories ?
Well, I joined the mobile disco known as Furness & Grey in '69 to service the home made electronics, there were no 1KW DC coupled audio amps outside of the BBC then ! Rebuilt the desk and caravan after a very careless car crash (my fault, fell asleep after doing a UN gig out in the sticks at 2AM), learned the trade and bought in when Tony Grey sold his share to me, on repatriation.
July 1970, 30 gigs in 31 days including the PA at the Kart meetings, just how did we do it, 23 years old and existing on 4 hours sleep a night ! The joys of youth...

Best Memory...1..Nissi Beach, as it was then, white sand and no hotels. Big gig, army catered, put down canvas tilts on the beach, 2 generators out in the bondhu, unlimited booze....booked us to play from 9pm to midnight...then another hour, then another hour. and another. Then the jets thundered over as the flyboys came back from patrol, and seeing the (very bright) disco lights on the beach made some calls on their way in to Akrotiri. Parked the kites, picked up their wives, booked us to continue playing through their champagne breakfast and joined the party. I got my head down on the beach for a quick kip and woke up to see the false dawn through a motionless, serene sea.
Made the mistake of going back to Nissi in search of memories in the '90's.....all bloody hotels and imported yellow sand...

Memory #2..So who was the naughty boy, bored of using simulated targets, that decided to free the gimbals and lock the 8 seeker heads onto Concord as she flew over ? Big echo she gave off..imagine the furuore of doing that now, would start WW3 !!

Someone mentioned the rich smells of the place, perhaps that was because our senses were much younger and working better, or perhaps the lack of village sanitation in Paramali, Prastion and Pachna coupled with huge herds of goats had something to do with it ? Lord did they stink.

Chogies (no disrespect here intended) squatting at the kerbside on Epi Camp, cooking anything and everything in oil on little burners and serving it in Chapatis..that plus a couple of Keo's from the NAAFI made the evening complete.

The shoeing (spelling?) of horses in the street on Limassol, near the jetty where we would sit and drink next to the yellow house on a Saturday morning, complete with smells of burning hoofs as they tried the shoes for size, complemented with the tap-tap-tap of Arabs beating copper to make chaffing dishes.

Anyone still got either their 3 legged drinks table carved from some now extinct tree, a copper dish which always held the car keys, or a wooden jewelry box with coloured inlays?

Finally, my first modern car, no longer restricted to a Triumph Herald, Austin Westminster, or Ford Thames van (with windows) or such...it was, yes a Maxi, and it had 5 gears...when you could find them all.....

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PoshinDevon
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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by PoshinDevon »

I remember Furness and Grey discos! Great stuff. Have been trying tthe last few days which discos were around at the time doing gigs.

Well thats one sorted....wonder who the others were.

Yes we had the three legged table and as Dad travelled around the middle east lots of stools like camels and copper trays hung on the wall......thanks for the reminders.

Cheers
Life is not about waiting for the storm to pass,it's about learning to dance in the rain

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Re: Cyprus Remembered

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Post by munchy »

PoshinDevon/Elkiton, Fab posts. Life for a teenager at Akrotiri in the 60s& 70s was as good as it could possibly get. In contrast, the Servicemen & Women worked damned hard in stressful and difficult climatic conditions. That,s why people went "overboard" after duty.
It was common knowledge that fights broke out frequently through excessive drinking . The MP were always busy.
My Dad worked on the Lightnings. What a plane that was. Massive payload of fuel and "state of the art" armaments, it's vertical climb at speed was very impressive. Ahead of it,s time.
As for the "Cliffs" they were too daunting for me but some of the older guys conquered them to their great satisfaction.
Having lived at 18 different addresses, I am a bit vague on details. But I do recall that we may have lived at No 32 Andrews Avenue??

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