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So after an asphalt-melting summer, September is finally here. This isn’t an end to the warm weather, the beaches are still pretty full, Protaras’ strip is still busy but the “standing in front of a brick kiln” heat is fading, and our mornings and evenings are much cooler.

These are the ideal days to visit Cyprus, you can still hang out all day around the pool or at the beach, but in the evening you can stroll among the pubs and restaurants without breaking into a sweat. It’s the best of both worlds now and as an additional cherry on the cake, with August over, it’s still busy enough – just not crazy busy.

For me, it’s the first sign of the inevitable drift into the cool, autumnal weather that is the best time of year for those of us that want to stroll along the coastal path and watch the waves and the sky with only the cats for company.

Thekabendavgousto if you prefer. Today is a major religious festival, all Cyprus hits the beaches in an orgy of bank-holiday enthusiasm and Summer reaches its peak.

From here onwards, the slow descent into autumn begins and we can start thinking of cooler days and maybe even somewhere to park when you go for a coffee.

I’m not anti-tourist, or even anti day-tripper if they behave themselves, but the frenzy of seaside activity just isn’t my bag. So I hope everyone else has a blast and no-one gets sunburned but I’d be obliged if someone gave me a shout when the bulk of them push off home.

If you need us in the meanwhile – we’ll be right here.

Gina was out and about on the boardwalk this morning at around 0800, the wood was still wet with dew although the air, she tells me, was warm and getting hotter. I was at work – someone has to do it I suppose but I do miss those cool morning strolls.

She ran across a couple of old friends watching the world pass from the shade and sent me a couple of photographs.

The orange and white moggo was either left or born to one of the hotels early last winter as a kitten with two siblings, and they thrived. This should be their first summer.
The black and white turned up not so long ago and still looks a bit nervous.

Gina did well to get out and about but I have to admit, where the summer is concerned, I’m more inclined to follow the example of our own Ginge and just wait for all the fuss to pass and the pedaloes, jet-skis and muzak to pack up and push off.

The minute I sat down to write something further in The Grand Theory universe, the world and its mother decided that they had more use for my time than I did.

But I’m persevering and it’s coming together. Once I finish, publishing will only be ten or fifteen re-writes away.

It’s a hassle to write about a time other than you own, and I decided to look fairly closely at the historical aspects so I don’t sound like a total idiot to anyone ‘in the know’. Its a hassle and a half, and I’d hate to attempt it without the big Goog in an adjacent browser window to research the details of armour, locations, and all the other details you need to make things believable without necessarily intending to be 100.000% historically accurate,

I’m inclined to follow Conan Doyle’s example when he was criticized by a purist concerning his story “The Bruce Partington Plans” (I think, I’m working from memory here). The awkward individual in question had travelled the railway where the body had been dumped and sent the great man a telegram, pointing out that there was no second line of rails where his story had placed them.

Conan Doyle replied to his telegram with a single line, “I make one”. And left it there.

I have to admit that despite being an major admirer of Sherlock Holmes stories in general, I’m a little more of a nit-picker than Conan Doyle. But I reserve the right to ‘make one’ as required, but one here and there – just not everywhere. The details need to ‘feel right’ and reasonable accuracy is one way of making sure they do. Pleasing the purists is incidental – not the goal.

Still, hang in there, and I’ll keep you updated. I promise it won’t be thirty years this time.

It seemed like a good idea to have somewhere on-line uninfluenced by Facebook’s bizarre algorithms and far from the insanities of Twitter.

And just to ask, am I the only one that thinks “Twitter” was an odd choice of name? If I accused someone of twittering, it wouldn’t be a compliment.

But then again, is “X” much of an improvement? When you “x” something out, you delete it.