Cleanup

I last wrote on Tuesday. On Wednesday, one week since the fire chased us down the mountain, we sat with Allan and Debbie in their garden ate, drank and reviewed the week. We have all found ourselves taut; short on patience and tolerance. We all know how lucky we have been, but we all look for danger at every turn. Bottom line, yes, we were lucky; but that doesn't mean we're not traumatised.

The builders who recently put the finishing touches to the roof of our terrace have today demolished it and taken it away. The powerwasher has removed the first layers of soot and grime. I'm trying to balance tasking the workers and getting agreement from the insurance company. Given my recent tussles with the insurance company, and the fact that they are swamped with claims, I'm resigned to the fact that I will get what I get, and that my negotiations with AIG will not really have any bearing on what I pay the guys. But who knows? We will see.

At the weekend, the President of the Republic outlined a series of measures the government would take to help in the aftermath of the fire. Some promises sounded impractically generous - so there may be some help coming from that quarter too.

News Cycles

I wanted to type some final statistics on the fire, but in the way of the modern news cycle, the Limassol wildfires of 2025 are now in limbo. Neither the news of the day, nor part of documented history. The final scores are not in. So, forgive me for some approximations.

The fire burned 125 square kilometres, around 1.3% of the entire surface area of the Republic. The two people that died were Dimitris and Maro Philippides, 81 and 77 years old. They were trying to escape their holiday home. 13 villages lost homes. Current estimates are that 191 homes were damaged and 93 completely destroyed. My village, Souni-Zanadja, was the worst affected. The drought meant that some villages water supply had been turned off as part of rationing, meaning fire engines couldn't access water. By law (implemented three years ago), Cyprus should have a universal SMS warning system. It does not. It hopes to consider tendered proposals in 2026. Some people evacuated when they heard church bells. Some, like us, went at the smell of smoke.

Trauma

We got off lightly and rejoice in our luck. However, Mrs L is sick. She's running a fever, has a banging headache and nausea. The medics suggest this is a reaction to the trauma and stress. I suspect they're right.

I've been tidying. Anyone who knows me had to read that last sentence twice. I'm not one of life's tidiers. As I was choosing things to take when we were evacuating, it occured to me how little I cared about items that I previously considered dear. My notebooks? Journals? Pens? I couldn't care less. I was only concerned with practicalities. I took my laptop, as it represents the gateway to my digital world where important things live. Identity documents, credit cards. That sort of thing. Chargers. Other than that, beds, food, bowls and leads for the dogs. I only grabbed some clothes as an afterthought.

As part of the cleanup, we have a skip, which I have been filling with all my old notebooks and journals, unwanted ornaments, and even some surplus office furniture. I have been sorting through clothes, books, golf kit, even stationery (no, really). Some has gone to people who might have a use for it, some to recycling and some to the bin. Cathartic in a way.

August

Life for some in the village will gradually return to normal, while for others they will be making a new normal somewhere else. Some to return, some to move on. Wednesday, July 23rd was our wedding anniversary and the day the village caught fire. We won't forget what we were doing for this one.

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