Trundling round the supermarket on a Saturday morning at 7.30 am, the amount of women with a full a face of make-up and 6 inch stilettos is a little astounding. Shopping in Cyprus is like a catwalk show; big sunglasses and bling are essential accessories and while I like to make an effort, trotting down the aisles in your best gladrags isn't really my thing. If you enjoy people watching, I recommend Cyprus. Its only about 70% of the population who are like this, and thankfully Harrys family fall into the normal 30%.
Half asleep still, and faced with a supermarket the size of the Millennium Dome, each aisle was a challenge in itself. Not only does the fact that I can't read Greek slow down any shopping trip, but the sheer amount of choice available is a little confusing. For such a small country they produce a lot of products! And with Kakoullis asleep behind the trolley, there was a heated discussion in the cheese section.
In England fruit and vegetables come washed, wrapped and packed in a layer of plastic. In Cyprus fruit and vegetables come wrapped and packed in a layer of dirt fresh from the field. Cucumbers a tiny (due to the lack of chemicals pumped into them), potatoes are knobbly and bunches of rocket come complete with ladybugs. In England we would always buy the cleanest potatoes and i've only ever seen rocket cleaned, de-stemed and shoved in a plastic bag. And while ladybugs falling out of my salad will take some getting used to, food here tastes fresher and full of flavour, so a little bit of a dirt here and there won't be putting us off our food (although seeing a lambs head for sale in the meat aisle might).
So future visitors be warned; the supermarket will be part of the sightseeing schedule.
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