Monday 2nd March 2026

Occasionally, our lives interact with world events. This has been such an occasion.

Between us leaving home on Saturday and arriving a Gatwick, the US and Israel bombed Iran, including a girls school killing nearly 200. Our flight wasn’t affected, but later that evening, two drones attacked an RAF base on Cyprus causing flights to be cancelled, including half the people on the tour whose flight into Paphos was cancelled early on Monday morning.

We woke at seven, and lazed around before going down to breakfast. Where there were half the number in the restaurant enjoying the fayre on offer. We ate, then went back to pack, load the car and check out.

And having four hours to kill before we were due to all meet up at the airport. I texted a message to my friend, Roger, wishing him safe travels, but he responded that the flight had been cancelled, and the information desk didn’t open until eight.

I let the tour leader know, but he already knew. But the plan was to still meet at the airport at one, and see who turned up, and some others had travelled early like us.

We drove into Paphos, and on the long drive into the town, we passed a strip of apartments and places offering “British fry ups” and “traditional roast diners”, whole couples of a certain demographic struggled with the warm sunny weather: balding men with red faces and orange skinned wives tagging along.

We turned round and went to St George’s Point, where we found a car park and low grass-covered cliffs, dropping down to turquoise shallow sea. Others, like us, had come to take in the sight, walk and take selfies. Though we didn’t take selfies.

We decided to drive to the airport, Jools driving for the first time to get used to the car and roads.

We arrived safe and sound, parked up then walked insde the terminal to use the facilities and have a coffee while we waited.

We had just got our coffees and were sitting down when all hell broke loose. A woman went round running and screaming in Greek: we had to evacuate the building.

We did.

Then when all outside, we had to move to the far side of the car park, as the police and army arrived.

The tour leader said he was parked nearby, s we went to meet Richard, and then move the tour van, and Jools drove our car out. Jools left the airport, but we had two people to pick up in the chaos, in the end we were allowed to go in, find the couple, then turn round and head for the hills.

Two drones had been spotted within the airport airspace, and coming after other drone attacks by Iran, the airport was closed for the rest of the day.

We would meet Jools at the hotel. But we would go and so some light orchiding near to the hotel. So as Richard drove, the rest of us got to know each other and shared stories, while stunned that actions by the Orange President could affect our lives.

We went to a filed near to the hotel, down a long and dusty lane. Got out and went to explore the rocky outcrop that the plough had managed to miss.

Over two hours we found a dozen orchid species, among the plants thriving in the poor soil among the rocks.

We all got back in the minibus, then drove the ten minutes to the hotel, about a mile beyond the one we vacated that morning. Jools had already arrived, checked in, so I grabbed my gear and walked to the apartment, not as spacious as before, but good enough where Jools had unpacked after carrying the luggage from the car.

At six we went to reception for a review of the day’s finds, and a cold beer to go with it. Then to the reception where there was a buffet meal on offer, so we ate, drank and talked, with the red wine flowing freely.

Outside the near full moon shone from a jet black sky, stars glistened all around. And we went to bed.