The sun is setting and I am sitting with a white wine at hand, a Moroccan chicken in the oven, and John Lee Hooker singing in the background.

Outside, the fields are green and dotted with bright yellow flowers, a marvel as a result of excessive rains, and over the way the Mediterranean laps the shore. Northern Cyprus, a new land to me, a contrast from anything I have known before. I am keeping an open mind, as it is dusty and poor; the Turks may be the victors after the 1974 invasion, but in contrast to the more affluent south, the roads and lack of signs, I would say that they may have conquered the land but their way of life is perhaps more stunted compared to the rest of Europe. Early days and I have no right to make judgements, albeit naïve.

John and I drove to Famagusta this morning, then got totally lost in a myriad of fields, laid out like I would imagine St Paul might have seen them. We saw plots of cabbages, roughly ploughed land ready to sow, chickens, cherry trees, and smiling  ladies in colourful head scarves  waving at us as we passed.

I suffered several bouts of whiplash as John braked hard on the sleeping policemen, until we finally found our way back to the more ordered metropolis of the university town of Famagusta and had lunch in the sun and watched dusty cats stalk about.

Matt’s (John’s son’s) apartment is fine but seriously cold at night. We arrived in the middle of the night and when the taxi dropped us off we were a little jaded by the temperature in a flat that is NOT built with insulation, heating or fitted carpets… I was so cold, and the tiled floors were like an ice rink.

I refused to wash, and when I eventually did (after 48 hours) and  turned the shower on to hot and discarded my jeans, they just about walked by themselves to the washing machine! But the days are glorious… hot and sunny, and we tramped through a field to buy some bread and eggs and were stunned to find our own private butterfly nursery. We just missed stepping on millions of caterpillars huddled together, awaiting their metamorphosis. Magical.

We are to be exiles here for seven weeks and no doubt we will make a few road trips, if our horrible little hire car makes the journeys! The motley crew that took our money and grinned with big teeth as we drove away are no doubt swilling their profits as I write… Hmmmmm. Tomorrow is going to be a trip into the unknown. We have a Turkish map, showing us roads to a fort and monastery on the North coast of the island, and we plan eating egg sandwiches overlooking the Med, before finding our way down to Nicosia, then back along the meandering tracks to Iskele.

In the meantime we have the oranges, pomegranates,

 hot water bottles and my old faithful kangaroo slippers!

Beautiful Edinburgh and its burgeoning crocuses and snowdrops must wait, and the cares of tomorrow must wait, till this day is done.