Wednesday, May 11, 2016

“…Caught in the Middle of the Dawn and the Sunrise…”

Minus One's Alter Ego - No Zombies Allowed
Travelled my old route home again, enjoying the strange coincidences that afford a trip to the eastern Med. I sat next to a counsellor for the Libyan Embassy. She seemed very well educated, quite knowledgeable about the troubles of the Middle East, and a westernised Muslim who, she explained, wore the hijab because ‘she chooses to’. Though, on this occasion jeans and a t-shirt with designer labels would do.

In front of me sat two Orthodox Jewish boys, wearing their kippahs and fringe and tasselled tzitzits around their waists. The politest guys you could ever meet. Cute and friendly to everyone around them, saying please and thank you, except when I started talking about Syria.

As for strange and unusual punishment, someone was listening as I was subsequently stuck in the airport lounge for five hours. The silence of the dark endless night pierced periodically by the barista making faux Cappuccinos for the red-eye crowd of a Slovenian, three disgruntled Russians, and me.

As I waited I watched the sunrise, and the swallows darting above the decks, as cabin crew came in to take their cigarette breaks before boarding another flight. Eventually my ride arrived and I was officially back on the Island, in one tattered piece.

Now quite weary, with the sound of ethereal music floating around my brain, the Bible, the Koran, how Born Again Christians are evil (Just think Cliff Richard) and that in all probability Prince died from a medical mistake when his celebrity doctor’s son gave him Narcan in contradiction to Buprenorphine, thus causing a massive respiratory depression (just speculating of course). I was in Zombie Land once more. It’s good to be back here, albeit for a short time anyway.

The sun is now high in the sky, the warm summerlike breeze shooing away the stale dust that had suspended itself in mid-air for six months in the locked rooms of the apartment. Hoping I would find nothing lurking in the corners, as not very good with exotic spiders and their ilk. Praying my transvestite neighbour had finally seen the light and ditched those disgusting incense sticks, and wishing I was lucky (?)

I did discover a nice surprise while catching up on local happenings. Apparently Cyprus is finally through to the grand finale of the Eurovision Song Contest this Saturday night in Stockholm, Sweden.

Shock-horror Cyprus is through with none other than a ROCK song by a local band of crazy and talented cover-artists with tattoos and hair to match. Who would have believed it? I’d seen them quite a few years ago, and suddenly here they are all over the news, with a hit song and massive international exposure.

So, there is a God of sorts, I guess, as the question was pretty ripe on the flight over here. If Cyprus can win the cheesiest song contest in the world with an English language Rock song, then there is no telling what could happen next!

As night falls, I’ll leave you with a taste of ‘Alter Ego’ by Minus One, a song that strangely resonates with my journey. This is a Cypriot Rock band. However, the lead singer is French and a contestant of TVs ‘The Voice’ talent show, but don’t hold that against him. (The rest have American and Greek accents, but you can’t tell that from their guitars!) It’s quite good, even The Guardian reviewer said so!

If there’s a Eurovision street party on Saturday night in the capital Nicosia… I’ll be there!



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