Smuggling in Cyprus

Cyprus is a funny old place – did you know that some people don’t even know that the island is divided whilst others believe it’s divided because Turkish soldiers took the random decision to invade for no good reason whatsoever 32 years ago?  Others know that something went on in terms of British soldiers being killed and ethnic cleansing, but some people you speak to believe the island is divided because of a simple property dispute - or could it now be all about the oil or is that the Orams?

The fact of the matter is that the events leading up to the division of the island before I was born (just) matter very little nowadays to the majority of Cypriots actually inhabiting the island because the whole situation is rapidly turning into a farce - or even a comedy of errors if you like - with tit for tat silliness playing itself out on the green line daily fuelled by politicians from both sides.  So much so that smuggling in Cyprus is now rife with those coming from the south side sneaking back across with a packet of cheap fags and a tank of cheap petrol and those of us from the north sneaking back with a tin of Hammerite paint and a carton of fresh milk!

Every month there’s another load of horse manure to deal with in terms of border bureaucracy – the Greek Cypriots may well be the instigators nine times out of nine (!) but the Turkish Cypriots just cannot help themselves and they have to engage in tit for tat reprisals. 

Take the situation right now – a couple of weeks ago we suddenly found ourselves at Metehan in a two hour traffic jam.  We were being held up from going to the south side to build snowmen in the Troodos by Greek Cypriots who were insisting on filling in a little orange card with details of your name, plate number, car make, nationality, shoe size, favourite member of Take That (then and now) and opinion relating to whether Turkish or Greek coffee is the best – (trick question as they are one and the same thing – get it wrong and you’re going home). 

Hey ho, never mind, we grinned (not) and put up with it knowing full well (actually, having learnt from bitter experience) to utter not even a sigh of discontent for fear of having your car stripped down to its shell by some official who knows his rights and is well within them to mess you about for a few hours and even arrest you if you miff him sufficiently.

So anyway, that whole orange card thing is ongoing as a show of bureaucratic strength I suppose, and so all of a sudden the good old Cyprus Today pops up with the report that the Turkish Cypriots are planning on erecting 96 square meter national flags on 36 meter poles on top of the Kyrenia mountain range to wave in their neighbours’ faces in retaliation.  Oh gosh - how mature…unsurprisingly that plan didn’t go down to well so instead they have decided to hit the Greekies where it hurts, namely in their pockets - and stop all of us good citizens who live on the north but who occasionally like to pop over the border and do some shopping and charge us tax or confiscate stuff as they so wish. 

Okay – so this is where the arguments start with those affected saying ‘what is the point in that guys?’ and supercilious expatriates telling the likes of me who enjoy a Starbucks and a bit of sophisticated high street shopping in Nicosia once in a while that we are traitors who should be punished for not supporting the economy in the North. 

Whatever. 

The fact of the matter is that this annoyance now means that for a few weeks until the customs officials get bored and go back to eating biscuits and filing their nails I have to smuggle Cheese Biscuit’s favourite food, Tyler’s scary sour worm sweets, Himself’s Bombay Mix and my fresh skimmed milk from the south into the north in the inside panels of my car, I have to layer on any clothes I buy, hide the Starbucks evidence and pray to the good lord above that they sort this bloomin’ mess out before Ikea opens later this year otherwise I’m going to have to get VERY inventive or move!

And in a final note on all this Cyprus stuff – I was at a mate’s house the other day chatting away to a group of Turkish Cypriot males when I learnt the truth about the whole Annan-Plan-‘yes’-to-peace-vote malarkey…apparently they were all told that if they voted ‘yes’ they could get out of doing national service.  So there you are then, another urban myth dispelled!  Like I said, Cyprus is a funny old place!