Cyprus 2019
It's my March break, and my sister Cathy flew into Istanbul to spend some time with me. We had planned to go to Cyprus. Soon after Cathy arrived, my cat Oliver got quite sick, so we weren't sure that we would be making the trip after all. After a positive ultrasound, and a blood test that confirmed that what was ailing the boy is a sickness that is treatable, we decided to make the trip after all.
Day 1: Smashing our way into the country. (One of those things that takes a while to be funny)
Travelling around North Cyprus, it's quite useful to have your own transportation, so we decided to rent a car, and pick it up at the airport. They drive on the left in North Cyprus. I have driven on the left before, in Bahamas, but only with cars with the wheel on the left, never on the right. So this was a first for me.
Before setting out, we geared up google maps on Cathy's phone (my phone is very confused - it feels like it should be in Turkey, but it's not), I adjusted all the mirrors, and made sure I could operate the turn signals and the lights. I drove very slowly and cautiously towards the airport parking lot exit, being careful to stay on the left side. When I got to the little booth, the man waved towards the booth about 10 feet away and said I had to exit there. In between the two lanes was a low concrete barrier. Behind me were cars parked. I was struggling to back up, without hitting the concrete barrier on my right, or crash into any of the cars behind me. Cathy was yelling something about the little booth. Suddenly there was a horrible ripping sound. I had caught the front of the car on one of the rubber pylons on the left. The entire front peeled off like an orange. Did I mention that it was raining?
I stopped the car, jumped out, and looked at the front of the car sitting on the pavement. Suddenly about 4 men materialized to stare at the chaos. I asked the men to help me, and they didn't want to touch anything. I couldn't use my very confused phone to call the rental company, so one of the men did use his phone to call. The young man who had set us up came running. He said he would get us a new car. I started yelling at Cathy to get the bags out of the car. I was so embarrassed, I just wanted to get out of there. The young man came back, and said we were going to get a car that was outside of the airport parking lot, so I yelled at Cathy to put the bags back into the car.
After we picked up the second car, the young man led us out of the lot, and sent us on our way. And I promptly made a wrong turn, and ended up driving on a gravel road beside the airport. Cathy said she hoped I wouldn't hit any sheep. I told her it was too early to make jokes. After we got turned around (a many-point turn), I started to see the humour in the situation.
The drive to the hotel was lovely, even if I had a VERY hard time keeping my speed down (my right foot is made of lead). When we arrived at the Theresa Hotel, the owner suggested that I move the car to a different parking lot. He asked jokingly, "Are you a good driver?" Cathy and I just looked at each other. I muttered, "only if I don't have to back up."
Day Two: Looking for Wild Donkeys
We told Erdogan, the owner of Theresa Hotel, that we were planning to drive to Golden Beach today. He told us to stop in the town with a mosque and a church side by side to buy carrots for the wild donkeys, and to be sure to visit the Monastery of St.Andrew to touch the magic water and make a wish. So that's what we did.
When I first came down the stairs this morning, Erdogan popped out of the office/restaurant to greet me. I told him that my room was very cold, and he asked, with a pained expression, "Why didn't you tell me last night?" We came up to my room so that he could show me how to adjust the heat. Then he showed me some interesting plants, one with a stalk that tastes like lemon, and the other dandelion, which is apparently an antioxidant, and tastes awful. Then he showed me a rock in the ocean that looks like a backwards map of Cyprus. And then I settled down to start my breakfast and wait for slowpoke.
After a lovely, leisurely breakfast (olives, cheese, cucumber, honey, cream, boiled eggs, bread), Cathy and I headed out on the road again. We came to Dipkarpaz, the town with the mosque and church. I pulled up behind a bus while I mulled over where to park. When I pulled around the bus, I saw that we were metres from a giant car park. We parked and strolled over to the stunningly beautiful old Greek Orthodox church, which is no longer in use.
We wandered up to the mosque, and back down to buy carrots for the donkeys. Then sat for a cup of Turkish tea. The tea was 1 Turkish lira each. When we used the municipal toilets, it cost 2 Turkish lira each. You do the math...
We set off again, driving through such beautiful scenery; gentle mountains, the road lined by olive trees and pink and yellow wildflowers, and occasional glimpses of the dark blue Mediterranean sea. We shared the road with huge tour buses heading to St.Andrew's monastery.
We stopped to photograph a shepherd with his flock,
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| Not sure who these guys were waiting for |
then turned down a rough looking road to get to 'Turtle Beach.' The road was packed dirt, full of potholes and rocks, and going down a precipitous hill towards the sea. If there had been room to make a multi-point turn, I would have turned back, but that wasn't an option, so we kept moving forward.
And man, was it worth it. We parked in the 'parking lot,' and immediately a beautiful big white dog approached us to say hello. We then turned to the boardwalk that led to the beach. It was pretty cold and windy. Cathy decided to take off her boots to dip her toes in the water, but I declined.
After a short walk, we made our way to a little restaurant for fries and Coke. We made the acquaintance of a lovely British lady who had lived briefly in Cyprus at the time of what I call the troubles (see more on that later). As an adult she had returned to Cyprus to find her childhood home, and befriended the new owners. She comes back every few years now to visit.
We left Turtle Beach behind and continued on towards the monastery. But first we had to pass the donkey patrol. There are wild donkeys living in TRNC, likely the descendants of donkeys left behind after the 'troubles.' They have learned that if they wander along the road, they can stop cars, and demand a toll of carrots and apples.
We finally made it to the monastery, lit candles for our parents and niece and nephew, and marvelled at the simple beauty of the place. I surprised myself by being able to decipher the Greek names of the saints. Yay Art History degree!
I dipped a piece of cotton in holy oil, to be taken back to Istanbul and applied to Oliver. Then Cathy and I made our way to the source of miraculous water. This water has miraculous healing powers. If you touch the water and make a wish, it will come true. But you have to keep the wish secret. Note: my wish came true!
We drove a bit further towards the very northern tip of the island, then turned around and headed back to the hotel. I really really don't want to drive on these roads in the dark...
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| Turtle Beach |
When we pulled into 'our' parking space at the hotel, Erdogan was there to greet us. He proudly told me that they were making a special vegetarian dish for me. When we came down to the restaurant, he took me into the kitchen to show me. It was turlu, a delicious vegetable stew cooked in a clay pot. Cathy and I have decided that this is the best food we have had in Turkey/Cyprus.
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| Cathy and I have been having our dinners in front of this fireplace |
Day Three - Trying Not to Drive Off a Cliff
This morning, when I went down for breakfast, the owner of the hotel was gathering greens for his grandchild’s rabbit.
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| The view from the Theresa Hotel |
After yet another lovely breakfast, Cathy and I set off for a new adventure. Today we were looking for Kantara Castle, a 12th century ruin with a spectacular view.
We drove along the coast, completely awestruck by the beauty of this country; turquoise water crashing against the rocks on one side, soaring mountains on the other, fields of yellow flowers. So beautiful.
We found the village where we were supposed to turn left for the castle. We drove through the town, and were heading out. There didn’t seem to be any more signposts for the castle, so we stopped and checked our bearings with a man walking along the road. He smiled and waved us on.
Within a few minutes, I was driving UP a mountain along never-ending switchbacks. My sister is afraid of heights, and is a bit of a nervous passenger, so I knew this was frightening for her. We came to the village of Kantara, and had to keep on going. But from here, the road became a one-lane affair. The whole time I was terrified we would meet an oncoming car, and I had NO IDEA what I would do if that happened.
Luckily, we didn’t meet another car, and we arrived at the parking lot for the castle. It cost us 5 lira for the two of us.
The climb to the castle was not too bad. There is a railing alongside the steps, and they go back and forth, so the climb is not frightening, or arduous. The castle really is a ruin, but we could see both coasts, and the Kyrenia mountains in both directions.
We made two more stops on the way back to our hotel; the Agia Triada ruins, and Agios Thyrsos church. Agia Triada was once a basilica. It is long gone, but according to our guidebook, the beautiful floor mosaics have miraculously survived. Unfortunately, today they were covered up with gravel to protect them.
Agios Thyrsos is an abandoned Greek Orthodox church that still houses copies of religious icons. It is the home of several families of swallows.
Day 4 - Icons, Icons Everywhere
Unfortunately, the day started with hot water issues for both of us. The hotel where we are staying is run by a lovely couple who will do anything for us, but it is not exactly luxurious.
We decided to take the back roads on our way to St.Barnabas' Monastery. We stopped by the town of Buyukkonak because Lonely Planet told us it is an 'eco-village,' and has a restored olive mill. The olive mill was restored, but then closed. We bought some very expensive jams, walked around, then set off in the car again.
St.Barnabas' Monastery is one of the few Greek Orthodox institutions that wasn't looted in the years following the 1974 troubles. This is because the Turkish authorities turned it into a museum and protected the icons it housed. The icons are arranged so that visitors can see different representations of the same saint.
After a long walk along the beach, paddling in the surf, we turned the car for home.
Day Five - Another Day, Many More Hairpin Curves
Today we said goodbye to Erdogan and his lovely hotel. He told Cathy & I to select two of the rocks that he picks up in his wanders around the island, and take them with us as souvenirs of our stay in his hotel.
We set off for Bellapais, a small village centred around a 12th century Augustinian monastery. The road to Bellapais was another scary one. When we were right in the village, I had to negotiate a 90 degree turn with a 3 foot drop on one side and a set of concrete stairs on the other. Immediately after that was another 90 degree turn to get into the parking lot of a little restaurant. I made Cathy get out and help me with directions for that.
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| Photographs don't do justice to the tightness of the curves I had to negotiate in this village. |
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| The audience for my parking maneuvers. |
We had lunch at the Tarihi Degirmen Historic Mill Cafe. It was, as the name suggests, once a flour, and then an olive mill. It had been allowed to fall into disrepair after the troubles of 1974. The gentleman who owns it now is from a family of Turkish Cypriots who had to leave southern Cyprus after 1974. He has lovingly restored it, and has even posted information in English and Turkish about the machinery on display.
The monks who built Bellapais Monastery were from Palestine, and they were taking refuge from persecution. As we were walking around, I was imagining what a wonderful sense of peace they must have felt in this place, in the shadow of the mountains. It must have felt as if they were being embraced by God.
After a frightening descent down from the village, we entered the even more frightening city traffic of Girne. With the help of google maps, we arrived at our hotel for the next three nights, Kemerli Konak. Again, Cathy jumped out to help me get the car parked.
The hotel is comprised of a few buildings arranged on the edges of a little ravine, and connected by bridges. We were touched to see that the name of the one of the buildings, that we could see from our little balcony, was KAYLA. Anyone who has know me for a few years will understand the significance.
So far, so good. We were both very excited to have a modern, HOT WATER shower.
We taxied down to the old harbour of Girne for an okay dinner by the water.
Day Six - Travelling with Lola
For breakfast, Cathy and I had to cross over the ravine to get to the hotel restaurant. As we entered the terrace, what did we see but a fine feline family relaxing in the sunshine. Two of the kittens were little tripods, missing a hind leg from the knee down. And yes, I automatically fell in love...But I told myself that they had a pretty good life here (especially when softies like my sister save all of their meat from breakfast and slip it to them later). They didn't need to be packed up and brought to Istanbul (although I don't have a Cypriot cat...)
We climbed in the car and set off on a new adventure. Today we planned to explore another peninsula, the Korucam Peninsula. It was so beautiful, a few times I just pulled over on the side of the road so that I could drink it all in.
And then I came screaming to a halt because...GOATS!
This stop was conveniently close to the Horseshoe Cafe.
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| The owner of the Horseshoe Cafe is evidently a Kemalist (someone who admires Ataturk) |
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| and a hoarder |
A lovely British couple had recommended the Horseshoe Cafe. The view is fabulous, looking out over the Mediterranean Ocean. We chatted with yet another Brit, a gentleman who owns a villa near Girne. He was waiting to say goodbye to the owner before he left for the airport. The owner is a larger than life character named Opa. He speaks loudly and cheerfully, and waves his hands in the air. Apparently he does all of his cooking over a fire grill. There is no electricity at the cafe. We didn't stay to eat, as we wanted to get to the furthest western point on the island.
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| The green hillocks are thyme! |
We took a slightly different route home, going inland.
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| White Wagtail |
so that we could stop in the village of Korucam. Outside of the village, we paused to visit a beautiful little chapel.
Korucam is the home of a small group of people called Maronites. Maronites broke away from the Orthodox Christian church in the 4th century. They have a long history of persecution, and moving to different parts of the world looking for peace. They have been in Cyprus since the 12th century. After 1974, Korucam became a tiny enclave within the Turkish Republic of North Cyprus.
We were advised to go to a cafe near the Church of Agios Georgios, and ask a 'little old lady' for the keys to the church. We found Korucam, and parked by the church. Both Cathy and I were desperate for the toilet, so when we found the cafe, we raced to the bathrooms. While I was in the bathroom, I worked out exactly how to phrase, in Turkish, "Will you please give us the keys to the church?" Apparently, I was practicing out loud, because Cathy called through the bathroom door, "Have you peed yet? You're in there talking to yourself!"
There were A LOT of little old ladies, and little old men, in the cafe. I approached one who seemed to be holding court, and asked in Turkish for the keys to the church. She replied, in English, "Speak English, I don't understand you."
I was embarrassed: "Is my Turkish that bad?"
"I don't speak Turkish. I'm Maronite. I speak Greek, English, French,and Italian."
Oops.
Even with that slip, we were given permission to enter the lovely church, dedicated to St.George (you can always tell that you are St.George if he is busy slaying a serpent)
When we left Korucam, we were a little freaked out because our GPS friend, Lola (we figured we should name her because she had been travelling with us all week), was not accessible. We soon realized that it was because we were near an area occupied by the Turkish military. Luckily, there was only one main road on the map. So I was either going the right way or the wrong way...
Day Seven - The Capital
Cathy had the brilliant idea of taking a taxi to Lefkosa (the northern capital) from Girne, instead of driving. It was such a relief for me. I really do enjoy driving, but on a different side of the road (and the car), in an unfamiliar city, it would not have been fun. The taxi cost us 100 TL (about US$20), and took 30 minutes from the hotel in Girne to a few blocks from the border crossing in Lefkosa. It probably would have taken me 90 minutes.
We walked a few blocks, past a million little tourist stores and a million more purse stores. I hustled Cathy along. I didn't want to spend the day looking at knick knacks we had no intention of buying. We showed our passports at one border, and then entered no-man's land.
One more passport stop, and we were in Nicosia. Travelling to Nicosia was a spur of the moment decision, so we had NO euros! We got by with VISA for a while, but then Cathy was forced to take some euros out of an ATM. It was also a bit uncomfortable for me, because I don't speak a WORD of Greek. Nothing. And I didn't have Greek/English dictionary. Which sort of rendered me mute.
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| We took Lonely Planet's advice and found this funky jewellery store, Workshop Kalliroi. The artist gave Cathy and I little hand-made angels named Lola. |
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| Church of Archangelos Michail |
Day Eight - Gule Gule
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Drove back to the airport. At the airport parking lot, Cathy had to jump out of the car AGAIN to look for a parking spot, and then help me into it. Cars were parked willy nilly everywhere. Then back to Istanbul, and a lovely pizza from Pizano!
1974
Cyprus has a long history of power struggles. The island is snugly embraced between Europe, Asia, and the Middle East, so it is a very valuable piece of property economically and politically. It has been inhabited since about 9,000 B.C. Around 1200 B.C. the first Greeks settled there. Since then, it has been under the control of Assyrians, Egyptians, Persians, Romans, Byzantines, Arabs, the British, the Knights Templar, and finally the Ottomans (modern day Turks). In 1878, the British 'leased' the island from the Ottomans. When the Ottomans sided with Germany in WWI, the Brits annexed it. The Turks officially recognized the annexation in 1923. In 1923, Cyprus officially became a colony of Great Britain.
HOWEVER, throughout the 20th century, many of the Greek inhabitants of the island wanted to unite with Greece. Obviously, the Turkish inhabitants weren't so keen on this idea. Things started getting violent in the 1950's.
In 1960, the Republic of Cyprus was born. The British were to retain military bases, and Cyprus was not to align with either Greece or Turkey, or be divided. Obviously, that didn't go well.
By 1964, things were getting so bad, the UN sent a peacekeeping force to Cyprus, and the Major General of the force infamously drew a green line on a map of Nicosia, dividing the city into Greek and Turkish parts.
In 1974, the violence between Greeks and Turks had become so heated, the Turkish army landed forces on the northern part of the island to protect what they considered their countrymen. What followed was massive displacement of Greeks to the south and Turks to the north.
For decades it was not possible to cross from one part of the island to the other. In the 21st century, things have loosened up considerably, and people can go back and forth, only through border checkpoints.
So where were Cathy and I? We spent most of our holiday in what the Turks and the Turkish Cypriots call the Turkish Republic of North Cyprus. The rest of the world considers it an occupied zone of Cyprus.
When Cathy and I were in Nicosia, we went to the top of the Shacolas Tower Observatory. We had a 360 degree view of Nicosia and Lefkosa. Two things stood out for me:
There was a helpful, illustrated, timeline of the history of Cyprus. This is how the events of 1974 were illustrated:
When you look out the north-facing windows of the tower, this is what you see:
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(That's the Turkish flag and the Cypriot flag you see in the distance).
I do not claim to be an expert on Cypriot affairs. I spent a total of 7 1/2 days in the north, and 1/2 day in Nicosia. But here, and wherever I travel, I mostly see people who want to get on with their lives, who want to love, and be loved, and to look after their loved ones.
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