A village morning in Peyia
I often see the little old ladies and men, who’ve lived in Peyia for many, many years, as I head slowly through our pretty village streets in the morning.
Dressed in black and looking very sunkissed, they nod and wave their hands but don’t smile too much at the morning sun. The journey home in the evenings, is very much different though: I get smiles galore and a few cheery words too.
Have just worked out why today: the huge oil drum, on the hill near our home, isn’t for water for the goats: its the overnight denture soak. The elderly I see walking slowly up the hill first thing, are trying to be first there to claim their nashers before someone chooses the wrong pair and leaves smiling a smile belonging to one of their neighbours…..