Post

The day after we moved into the house, June 7th 2006, we realised we had to change our address for post. Obvious really. I went to the Post Office and asked the lady how we did this. She wanted to know where the house was and I explained. Please remember there are few street names and no house numbers. The clerk said "Tell the postman".

The postmen are pretty obviously just that. They ride motorbikes with leather satchels slung either over the handlebars or on a carrier up front. They wear grey shirt and trousers and "our" man wears a grey cap. He had been delivering post to our apartment for a year and he knows us. When he has post and sees me in Pantelli he waves and shouts "Ioanna" and I get the message (and, of course, the post).

I saw the postman a day or so later and told him we had a new house. He asked who our neighbours were. Erm, I thought I knew the first names but... "Find out and let me know" he says. I duly did this and pounced on him in Platanos one morning. I gave him the names and after thinking about it he said that was fine. Where should I put the box, I asked, at the bottom of the main steps? Yes, that was OK too.

I went and bought a plastic post box and got the carpenter who was on one of his infrequent visits to put the box up. When I passed my friendly neighbour she let me know that I should tell the postman and I reassured her it was all done.

Sure enough, we got our first post a couple of days later. Damn good system this!