Most people think of bats as tiny winged creatures that flit to and fro at dusk and then make themselves scarce before daylight. Most people, in fact, never really get to see them in any detail as they don’t hang about long enough and it’s dark anyway. If they did get a good look, they would see that they are like tiny flying mice – as in die fledermaus of Johann Strauss. We have plenty of these flitting over the swimming pool, around and under the patio’s arches, and sometimes even nipping through the living room if the big sliding windows at each end are open. They move at considerable speed, considering they have no sight, but their echo-sound system ensures they don’t collide with anything or each other.

They are harmless little creatures and they help mop up the mosquito population, which is no bad thing. In our area, however, they are overshadowed by their larger relatives, the Egyptian fruit bats, which visit us in ever increasing numbers. If you think being dive-bombed by flying mice is bad enough, how about being strafed by flying foxes? These sighted bats have big bush-baby eyes in their furry faces, pointed ears and sharp little teeth. The face does bear a remarkable resemblance to that of a fox, hence the colloquial name. They also have a 3ft wingspan, which makes them a formidable sight as they zoom down past you with their black, leathery wings flapping audibly. As their name implies, they live on fruit.

They love all kinds of soft fruit and purloin anything they can find. Orchards with apricots, peaches, plums, and figs in season get raided nightly, and, when the fruit they have kindly left on the trees has been harvested, they give the grapes growing in this region a hammering. Then it’s our turn. Once the soft fruit season is over, the ravenous bats turn their attention to any ripe carob pods left hanging on the trees – and we have a plethora of carob trees along the side of the stream-bed. They fly into the tree, break off a carob and return with it to their feeding branch. Each bat has its own perch where it hangs upside down to consume its meal.

You can easily spot the feeding branches by the piles of discarded seeds and bits of chewed-up carobs underneath. In our garden you have to watch out for Norah Batty, who tends to drop bits and pieces on you if you have the cheek to walk beneath her tree when she is feeding. This is all very interesting and fascinating to observe; but there is also a bit of a down side to this nightly presence.

The bats love the sweet taste of the carobs, but the dried pods are harder to chew than soft fruit, so they remedy this by lining up at one end of the swimming pool every now and again, and diving down to grab a mouthful of water as they eat. When they pull sharply up to return to their feeding branch, they leave a trail of carob juice in their wake. It’s bad enough that we have to clean the patios and pool surrounds of this mess, but, as they circuit the garden, they redecorate the pristine white walls of the house and studio with unsightly brown splashes.

Thankfully, before dawn breaks, they return to roost in large and mainly inaccessible caves in the Akamas. At this point we breathe a huge sigh of relief, because, after being hassled all night, we sure as hell don’t want them hanging around here all day. Sheila Hawkins is the author of five best-selling books in Cyprus, all of which have been illustrated by artist Harry Hawkins.

An exhibition of his work is on display at their studio in Neo Khorio, where a selection of prints, cards and beer-mats are also for sale. Visitors are welcomed daily. For information Telephone 26321123 0r visit the website www.hawkinscyprus.com