Memoire - Broken Key

Earlier today, as I was opening a cardboard box at work using a key to slice the cellotape, I had a flashback to a childhood memory and I thought I'd write it up for posterity and in case anyone was interested to read.

When I was 9 years old, we lived in Cyprus and had some great times. This memoire comes from one of our many days out as a family. 

We travelled up to the mountains to explore an area near Troodos (#1 on map). 

It must have been summer because it was pretty hot and there was no snow. We had stopped off to go for a walk and my little brother and I were fascinated by the hundreds of spent shotgun cartridges laying around on the floor. My dad picked up a tincan that had been shot and decided to try and open it up to show us the pellets inside. How the rest of the day panned out stemmed from that few seconds where he used the car key and it snapped!

There we were, in the middle of nowhere, stranded. This was before the days of mobile phones (yes - once upon a time nobody had them!). I'm not sure how much panic ensued, but we had to find some form of civilisation to get assistance and so started walking.

We came across a farmhouse a mile or two down the road and went to go and see if we could borrow a telephone. The people inside were very welcoming and invited us in. The men folk were out farming whilst the ladies and children were at home cooking and playing. Before we knew it, they had made us lunch and lemonade and one of the men said he would drive my dad to Limassol (#2 on map) to get a new key cut! 

My brother, mum and I stayed with the family whilst dad went off in this pickup with the farmer for the 3 hour or so round trip....! 

I remember my brother and I being shown that you could eat the nuts off the pine tree outside, by the sundeck. We started our own little harvest and accumulated handfuls of these pine nuts and ate and ate and ate! My brother was sick due to eating so much.

A few hours later, dad returned with the farmer and went off to get the car. Thankfully, the new key worked and we were able to get back on our journey home after spending most of the day with a farmer family who had taken us in and been extremely generous and helpful. 

As I was only 9 years old, I don't remember all the details but I do recall mum saying that the family had been persecuted, either in Cyprus by other locals or in Australia where they had gone to previously (not sure which way round). I'm pretty sure it was to do with a marriage between a Greek Cypriot and an Australian. It was a sad story as we all found them to be so friendly. 

I wonder how they all are and hope good things have happened to them since as they deserve it. I'll bring it up with mum n dad next time I see them to find out more about the day as the memory is a bit fuzzy.

At the very least, I learned that using a key to open anything up is not a good idea, that's why today I used someone else's key! :-)