As Christa and I descended our plane and walked across the tarmac to the airport, our senses were immediately overcome with the sweet smell of damp grass and wildflowers. The desert-dryness of Ankara was replaced by a salty damp humidity that clung to our skin. Although it was night and we couldn’t see beyond the glowing lights of the arrivals gate, we were already suspicious that we had landed somewhere quite beautiful for our week off work.
We would soon discover how true this was, but first we had to come face to face with our tragic error. Following the advice of Hasan, a teacher Christa works with who is from Cyprus (and who will make a second appearance in this story later on), we had elected not to rent a car in advance. I had done a great deal of research on the subject and came very close to ignoring this advice. I knew that a car had to be rented in South Cyprus, the Greek side, in order for it to cross to North Cyprus, the Turkish side. A car from the north could not go south, and we needed to explore both sides. Hasan believed we could sort this out at the airport, which was, but of course, in North Cyprus. For the record: you cannot rent a car ANYWHERE in the north and take it south. Our plans to go straight to Paphos (on the southwest coast) for the night were smashed to smithereens. After several long conversations with the tourism counter and various taxi drivers, we headed to Lefkosia for the night and slept in the first of the budget hotels listed in Lonely Planet. After a restless night’s sleep, we awoke, ate a very pleasant breakfast at a street café, and continued our search for a car. It soon became apparent that everywhere was either closed for Easter, even though it was only Saturday, or they believed we were too young. We returned to our hotel, Tony’s, where the old man at the reception and his friend spent a solid thirty minutes calling car rental places for us, to no avail, despite his descriptions of us in Greek as something to the tune of “two beautiful American girls,” with consonants pleasantly spread out over lazy rolling vowels. It was time, as Christa put it, to problem solve. We had paid in advance for a hotel for two nights in Paphos. We were expected the following day at a hotel in Girne/Kyrnia in the north. We decided to give up on Paphos, spend a few hours in Lefkosia, and take a taxi to our hotel in the north for the night.
Once the decision was made, we started having some fun. Lefkosia is the last split capital in the world and, indeed, a boarder control run under the surveillance of the UN cuts right through the center of the city. You can walk or drive across, depending on the boarder, but you have to get a stamp on a piece of paper every time. We were on the Greek side, and we stayed there for the day. The old city is extraordinarily pleasant. The main street is pedestrian only, paved with cobblestones and lined with orange tress and jasmine vines. It smelled wonderful. Cafes are everywhere you turn, as are amazing shops. It was the shops that soon became a problem, or an indulgence, for Christa and me. Christa enjoys the benefits of her credit card collection, and I hadn’t bought new clothes since November. We were like kids in a candy store. From makeup to shoes to styles I actually liked (no offense, Turkey), it was pure excitement. I’ll spare you the details and just say we both spent a lot on lovely things. My grandma would be proud. After, we ate lunch at a Lebanese restaurant next to our hotel (which will also reappear in the story later) and grabbed a very expensive taxi to our hotel in Kyrnia.
Our hotel was about 15-20 minutes outside of the city proper but well worth the commute. Unfortunately named LA Hotel, it had a beautiful view of the tree-covered mountains to the south and a private beach to the north. Our room was like an actual hotel room (after so many hostels!), clean, comfortable, and quiet. We were some of the only guests, so the manager shared some “Cypriot” (think Turkish) coffee with us and took us for a tour of the private beach and the two outdoor pools. It was gorgeous. Christa and I relaxed by the pool for a few hours, then took a dolmus to town for a stroll along the picturesque harbor while the sun dipped below the horizon. Eventually we settled for some wine at a street café and an early night back at the hotel.
But that was only Saturday! I better speed things up a bit or this is going to become a novel. Sunday was Easter, so we stayed put. We lazed about at the beach, drank some white wine we had bought the night before, and eventually went into town again for dinner at an adorable Italian restaurant. We sat on the second-story balcony, where we had an ideal view of the harbor and, better yet, the passersby. We followed this with some coffee at a café and another early night.
Monday was Rental Car: Take Two. Saturday, we had booked a rental car online to meet us in the city on Monday. We took a taxi to Lefkosia, and after waiting for thirty minutes, realized it was time to call. Turns out they had no rental cars for us. This, after receiving a confirmation email. We walked to all the rental car offices a second time with the same results, then returned to Tony’s, where the same old man greeted us. This time, another man walked over, middle-aged and stocky, and all but vowed to find us a rental car. Turns out he was the owner of Tony’s, as well as a second hotel on the same street, the Lebanese restaurant, and a souvenir shop. After a series of fruitless phone calls, he told us he was going to Larnaka that afternoon and could take us to the airport, where we would undoubtedly find a car. Desperate and worn down, we agreed. The catch was that he wasn’t leaving till 1:00 because he was waiting for someone to come to the hotel; it was only 11:00. He offered us tea at the Lebanese restaurant, so we sat and chatted and he and Christa smoked like chimneys. An hour passed. He bought us “Greek” coffee. We sat and chatted and they smoked. Despite his life story, I was getting antsy. He was Lebanese, had essentially traveled the world, and moved to Cyprus with his family when he was much younger. More tea, more coffee, 1:00 came and went without the mystery person arriving. Finally, at 2:00, she came, and we drove what was only 30 minutes to Larnaka. But before the airport, he wanted lunch, so we ate, of all things, Pizza Hut while staring at the beach. Finally, around 4:00, we drove to the airport, successfully found a rental car, and were off. It only took five hours. Don’t get me wrong, I was very grateful for all the help and free refreshments, I just wanted to be DOING things. Now, at long last, we were driving to Paphos at 5:00, with reservations and suitcases back at our hotel in the north.
While we had very little time there, Paphos was quite lovely. We parked our little Nisan Micra and walked along the harbor with all its cafes, then along the coast and all its wildflowers. The sun did its magic and we turned around for some dinner in town, then it was two plus hours back to Kyrnia.
But first, some excitement. We had made it back to Kyrnia and were driving the stretch of road to our hotel. Driving in Cyprus is on the left side of the road, and Christa was doing a great job adjusting to this peculiarity. But perhaps she had reached her limits. Perhaps she was tired. Perhaps she just didn’t see the car parked on the side of the road. At any rate, from what I can gather, we bumped side mirrors and ours popped out. I’ll never be quite certain because, good Samaritans that we are, we kept driving. Our brand-new, unscratched Nisan Micra was already the worse for wear, seven hours after being in our care.
Our friends Kate and Caitlin had arrived Monday night but were already in bed by the time we got back. Tuesday morning at breakfast we caught them up on our little adventures before taking off for Troodos, a national forest in South Cyprus, where we would be spending the night. The drive took about two hours and involved not a few curvy twisty assenting mountain roads. We arrived at our Bed and Breakfast in Pedoulas, a tiny town in the area, in time for a late lunch. But this was really about exploring, not lounging. After lunch, we drove to Kykkos Monastery, about an hour away, known for its shimmering mosaics and detailed frescos. It didn’t disappoint. The highlight, for me, was perhaps the gift shop, which sold Cypriot wines and Commandaria, a special liquor made by the monastery itself. I made friends with the old man at the counter by practicing French with him. He recommended some wines to me, shared a taste of Commandaria, and gave me a free mini bottle in addition to the grownup bottle and wine I bought.
We drive back to the B&B to drop Caitlin off for a nap. I grabbed my running gear and Kate, Christa and I went in search of a trail. It wasn’t difficult to find one. It was a bit chilly at this point, but they allotted me an hour to run while they hiked, and run I did. I essentially ran halfway around a mountain and back. This meant that whenever I turned a corner I had a new view of Cyprus, often extending all the way to the coast. It was gorgeous. I felt like I would run into Athena or Aphrodite at any second; Mount Olympus, after all, was only a few miles away. I only wish I had had a camera. When I returned to our meeting place at the car, Kate and Christa were already there. It turned out they had been too cold and returned to the car almost immediately after I had started. Sorry!
We ate dinner at our B&B, which seemed to be one of the only places open in the whole of Troodos. Early to bed, early to rise, and a timely drive back to Lefkosia for a quick tour of a little church, some souvenir shopping and ice cream. Then some sun time back at the hotel, a nap, and an epic dinner with Hasan and his son Ozan.
If you thought that’s all I’d say about this dinner, you have another thing coming. They wanted to take us to a meyhane, which is a traditional Turkish restaurant that serves dozens of mezzes and has live traditional music, all for a set price. We met them around 8:30, to discover Ozan had brought two of his. While Ozan attends the same university we work at, his two friends study in Cyprus. There were eight of us in total, and I somehow was put at the end of the table with the three of them, who were all extraordinarily shy at first and spoke mainly Turkish. After some raki and red wine, thank goodness, everyone started to enjoy themselves. The music helped too. The mezzes were delicious and endless. By the time we left around 11:30, we were all stuffed to the gills. Hasan wouldn’t let us pay, despite our protests, and we returned to their apartment for some drinks and cards. As the clock struck midnight, I was sung the Turkish version of Happy Birthday.
Thursday, my birthday, we had plans to drive along the northern coast to the westernmost peninsula and Golden Beach. We got a little lost, but we got there. The water was beautiful, but the beach itself had a bit too much garbage for out taste. We didn’t stay long. Instead, we drove back along the coast in the direction of Kantara Castle. The views along the way were spectacular, and reminded me at times of Highway 101. We stopped at a gorgeous little beach with huge sandstone outcroppings for a photo shoot.
Back on the road, we drove up a very tall mountain to arrive at Kantara Castle. Built perhaps around 10 AD, today it is little more than stony ruins, but beautiful stony ruins covered in enough flora and fauna to make any pristine castle jealous. We climbed and explored and enjoyed a spectacular view of Cyprus. From the top, I could actually see the full extent of the very peninsula we had just driven up and down, and the ocean on both sides.
Eventually we got back in the Micra to finish our drive to Kyrnia. We ate a delicious Indian dinner for my birthday treat and went to bed early.
Friday we relaxed. It was a beach day, full of lounging and sunscreen and good books. The ocean was a bit too cold for me to get past mid-thigh, but everyone else went for a swim. We ate dinner at the same Italian restaurant as before, followed by drinks and free coffee and the company of Ozan once again. Kate bought me a much appreciated slice of birthday cheesecake to make the moment all the more perfect. While Kate and Caitlin were staying till Sunday, Christa and I had an early flight to catch Saturday, so we returned to the hotel in a timely fashion.
At 4:00 am, it was time to get going. Our flight was at 6:45, and we arrived back in Ankara around 8:00. I then napped for three hours back at my apartment. It was a fabulous, if expensive, vacation.
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