Summer 2021 - Cyprus

Cyprus 2021

It is time for me to start on the way back, via Cyprus and Turkey. I really have no idea on what to expect in Cyprus, except that it is geologically famous because the core of its mountainous south is an ophiolite, the Troodos Ophiolite, which is a piece of the Mediterranean ocean floor that has emerged unto land by the relentless closure of the Mediterranean by Africa. I hope I have a chance to go explore it.

The trip was quite uneventful, but when I got to Larnaca airport it was raining. We were herded into a hall with nurses, where a nasal swab was taken, and the results would presumably be accessible through the QR code of my free arrival form. I had no problem finding the shuttle to Nicosia, Cyprus’ capital, which is about 50 km away, and right away found out that here they drive on the wrong side of the road. Yes, Cyprus was at some time taken over by the Brits, who took it away from the Ottoman Empire, and they left their imprint in both the use of Greek and English as official languages. There is also an important Turkish population (20% of Cypriots), and in fact the Turkish army invaded Cyprus in 1974 (at the same time that Nixon was resigning office and the attention of the US was on its own domestic problems) and claimed the northern third of the island for their cousins the Turkish Cypriots as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (more about this as I get a chance to learn more about the country).

We got to Nicosia and there was light rain. I had to walk 30 minutes to my accommodation, so I donned my poncho and pulled out my umbrella anticipating an easy walk. I had not gone more than 10 minutes when the skies opened up and I got drenched! Estaba lloviendo a cántaros! Fortunately the poncho kept my backpack and body dry, but I might as well had been a fish from the waist down. But thank God for Google Maps, even under a deluge I managed to navigate my way in, and was glad when I stepped in and said hello to Andy, my host.

Andy is a Greek Cypriot, and now that he is retired from being a computer geek he runs a B&B out of one of his apartments. A very friendly guy, he offered to cook a pasta dish for his four guests, which I was very glad to accept since the prospect of going out to get some food was not at all attractive. So there were five of us to dinner: Andy, Elaine (American), Bernard (French), Jean-Yves (French), and myself. Delicious and accompanied by very good conversation, it was the perfect way to spend the evening.

I woke up at 5 am, because I was planning to go take the bus to the town of Troodos to go kick the rocks. I was discouraged by the weather forecast: 2 degrees C and a 90% forecast for mixed rain and snow for the whole day. The same forecast anticipates sun for January 3, so I am going to gamble and leave my geologic excursion for the last day.

So, what do you do on a rainy December 31? Stay out of the rain visiting museums is my go-to default activity, so I got my micro-umbrella and took the easy half hour down to the Old City, where the Cyprus Archaeology Museum is located. They were open and free! I take this as an indication of the prosperity of the country, where the museums are maintained by public funds. They were a bit gruff asking me for my arrival QR, scanned it and presumably got the negative result of my Covid nasal swab, and silently pointed toward the entrance to the exhibition. I must be Covid-free 😊

Nice museum with lots of pottery and bronze figurines (Cyprus was the very best known source of copper to the ancient world), helmets and swords. My favorite were the terracotta warriors, which, although not as impressive as the Chinese ones, made for a very nice exhibit at the museum. It took me about an hour to go through, and then I headed for the other interesting museums of the City of Nicosia, and of Byzantine pieces of art, but alas found them closed. The first one was closed for the long New Year’s weekend, but the latter has been closed for a couple of years now due to the pandemic. Rats!

Now, it turns that the invasion front of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus cuts the city of Nicosia in two, just like the Berlin wall did to Berlin, so I decided to go visit “the other side”. Under normal circumstances all you have to do is show your passport, but because of Covid I was asked to show the negative results of my Covid test. I confidently showed my QR code, but that did me no good, because of course the Turkish invasion forces do not have access to the Cyprus computer databases. I had to turn back, more curious than ever about this divided city and country. My host Andy later explained to me the basics of the conflict, which went back to the desire of Turkey to regain whatever it could of its Ottoman Empire, the duplicitous tactics of the British to pit Greek Cypriots against Turkish Cypriots so they would not be bugging Her Majesty with attempts to become their own self-standing country (which they became anyway in 1960, but only after considerable bad blood had been sowed among the ethnic factions), an ill timing of a coup d’état that for the first time in 4,000 years toppled the democratic government of Greece, and the Americans dealing with Watergate and Nixon. In this perfect storm the Turks saw their chance to jump on defenseless Cyprus (although a member of NATO, Cyprus was not entitled to defense by NATO forces because Turkey is also a member of NATO!). Now, the UN and the world at large has condemned the actions of the Turks, and the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus is recognized by no other country in the world except for Turkey, but “might is right” and nobody has done anything about it since 1974. Greek Cypriots have as little to do with the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus as they can, but still have to provide services such as power to the region, since they still regard it as a part of Cyprus. What a big mess for this poor little peaceful country! They have the misfortune of being at a very strategic location in the Mediterranean.

I spent the afternoon at home, and in the evening Andy and our fellow guest Elaine organized a small but entertaining New Year’s celebration. Elaine made a very nice Greek salad and an amazing quiche, Andy popped open a bottle of sparkling wine for toasting in the New Year, and the French friends provided wine for dinner. It was a lovely dinner but by 9 pm we were all done in and went to bed. Feliz Aňo Nuevo to us all!

The First of January of 2022! An open slate for new travels and adventures, making new friends, and starting new projects. For example, Faby is starting her new practice as a solo veterinarian. She is going to concentrate on pet wellness, will provide services on the home of her clients using her Subaru to move from one place to another, and eventually will have a van where she can carry all her stuff. Her practice is called Dr. Lola’s Veterinary Care. Lots of good luck, Muňequita!

I was certainly not going to spend the day in my room, so around 9 am walked down to the bus station located in the Kolokasi Parking Lot, with the plan of taking a bus to Larnaca, which is a city along the coast, 40 km to the south of Nicosia. I had gone by Kolokasi yesterday, on my ignominious retreat from the failed attempt to cross into North Cyprus, and was pleased with myself for remembering the way back. Once I got there, however, I was sadly disappointed to see the rows and rows of cold, empty buses, with not a sign of life. Of course, January 1! But surely some people would want to go to the beach to celebrate and to enjoy the radiant sun after the pouring rain of the last two days?

Sadly disappointed I walked aimlessly along the city walls, and was rewarded by seeing a busy elongated plaza, Solomos Square, with a lively number of people getting on and off buses. Aha! I had found the Intercity Bus Station, from which buses to major cities depart. Look at that, there is a bus departing for Larnaca in 45 minutes! I very much enjoyed the bus ride, if nothing else because it allowed me the feeling of freedom that I lost together with my driver’s license.

Larnaca is definitely a tourist city, well appointed to receive hordes of visitors. For today it was well attended by Cypriots celebrating the start of the new year. People were promenading along the waterfront, but very few were actually bathing, because compared to their standard of 35 degrees C, the current 12 degrees C feels chilly. I was beginning to get hungry, so I sought a restaurant by the beach and treated myself to a crispy fish with salad and potatoes.

Unfortunately, the museums were closed, and there is only so much people-watching I can do, so I took the 4 pm bus back, enjoyed the colors of the setting sun over the ag fields, and managed not to get lost on my walk back to my home. Andy was there (he actually lives in an upper floor apartment) so I told him about my day. He the asked what my plans were for tomorrow and I told him I was going to go visit Paphos, on the west side of the island. “Well”, he said, “I a m going to bike with some friends on the mountains to the north of Paphos, and can give you a ride there if you want.” Perfect! I had planned on taking the early bus, to be there at 9 am, and Andy was planning on leaving at 9:30 am to get to Paphos around 11 am, but I gladly took the tradeoff in exchange for the company and conversation.

So at 9 am I went down to the parking lot, where I met Beatrice and Lucas, a young Lithuanian couple currently living in Cyprus. Andy and Lucas were busy mounting three bikes on the rack, so Beatrice and I had plenty of time to talk about her plans to pursue an online Master’s degree in Psychology at a British university. It took a good half hour to get ready, because Andy has a very expensive bike and he wanted to be triple-sure that nothing was rubbing against it, but we finally got under way.

Cyprus is beautiful and prosperous, an observation I repeated several times during the trip, much to Andy’s delight. I learnt that the main sources of income are tourism and services. In the latter category are the many corporations who have their headquarters in Cyprus because of very favorable tax breaks, the registration of many ships that use the Cypriot flag, and to a lesser extent banking. Banking was a big sector until they went greedy, offered too many loans that they didn’t have the collateral for, and incurred huge international debt. Of course, the normal citizen gladly took on the loans that the banks were pushing on them, so when the bubble burst in 2013 the economy plunged down. The creditors demanded repayment, the banks ran out of assets and in turn demanded repayment from the people, and when they defaulted simply “appropriated” the balance of any accounts that had more than 100,000 euros in them. Overnight millionaire high-fliers became lowly pedestrians and life became very difficult. But they recovered, and today Cyprus still has a very large upper middle-class, and the island-nation has a rosy future.

Andy dropped me off at the main roundabout between the freeway and the main road to Paphos, with the idea that I would take a bus from there. Unfortunately the bus timetables are very rare, so after waiting for 10 minutes I became impatient and started walking. An hour later I arrived in Paphos, a bit tired from the long walk, but eager to visit the archeologic sites of Nea Paphos (200 to 400 AD) and the Tombs of the Kings.

Nea Pahos might be thought of as yet another late Greek settlement along the coast of the Mediterranean, with all sorts of villas now represented by the stumps of walls that have been duly excavated and reinforced by Polish archaeologists. But it has a unique claim to fame on its beautiful floor mosaics, which are in a remarkable state of preservation, and of which there are 50 or perhaps 100. Only half of them are exposed to the public; the other half is covered by a thin layer of sand placed there by the archaeologic team to protect them. Interestingly, many of the scenes are based on Greek mythology, but the representation style is reminiscent of what would later bloom into the Byzantine style. Thus, the demigods have halos around their heads, and baby Dionisius sitting on the lap of his mother bears a striking resemblance to later images of the Madonna and Child. Other mosaics show beautiful hunting scenes or are composed of hypnotizing geometric designs.

I escaped Nea Paphos through a side door that allowed me access to the seaside promenade, and “leisurely” strolled along the waterfront. I say “leisurely” because you will all agree with me that I am not good at simple leisure, and because I wanted to have enough time to visit the Tombs of the Kings and still catch the 3 pm bus back to Nicosia. The Tombs are really the necropolis of Nea Paphos, where a series of caves were excavated in the moderately indurated sandstones. Some were even carved as the entrance of modest temples (a pale similarity to Petra, in Jordan). Niches were then carved in the walls of the caves, and that is where the sarcophagi would be placed. Nothing looks really royal, so I think the Place should be called the Tombs of the Burghers.

I made it in time to catch my bus, and in due time came to my home for a good night of rest.

My last full day in Cyprus, and I wanted to spend it travelling up to the Troodos Mountains, which are of geologic fame because they are a piece of the ocean floor (what we geologists call an ophiolite), that was heaved up to form the core of Cyprus. I just had to see this geologic wonder, so I woke up early in the morning and walked to the Kolokasi Parking Lot to catch the 8 am bus. The place still looked deserted, but the office was open and I was dismissively sent to the back of the parking lot to wait for my bus. There are no labels anywhere, so I was a bit paranoid and accosted every driver I saw until I finally found the right one. I was very pleasantly surprised when he told me the fare was 1.50 euros (I had pay 7 euros for the round trip to Larnaca, and 9 euros for the return trip from Paphos). Was there a catch here? I very much enjoyed the 60-km trip there, and was looking out of every window checking my mental to-be-seen list with pillow lavas, hyaloclastites, and grungy brown rocks that in my opinion are weathered dunites and websterites criss-crossed by rodingite dikes. Then the bus made a sharp turn, and the driver instructed us to get down and wait for the shuttle to Troodos. Aha, I knew there was a catch! I bet we are going to have to pay 10 or 20 euros to go the last 15 km up the mountain.

There was a little convenience store there, so I asked at what time was the shuttle coming. The young man just shrugged his shoulders in a sign of ignorance (don’t these folks see the comings and goings in the area?). There was a schedule of sorts tacked to the door, but it was in Greek to me, both literally and figuratively. At least I managed to figure out I was in the town of Kakopetria, and because I had nothing better to do I walked down the steep main street to see the town wake up. Around 10 am I went back to the bus stop and was happy to see there was a shuttle waiting there. I tried to talk to the driver but he blew me off, started his shuttle, and in a display of infinite cruelty waved at me. Grr! Half an hour later another shuttle came by, this time with a friendlier driver. He listened carefully to what I was asking, then looked at his clipboard, and cheerfully informed me that the shuttle to Troodos would depart at 12:30 pm ☹

So I went for another walk through Kakopetria, this time along the banks of the river, where I saw first hand a series of tilted sheeted dikes, and a big boulder of websterite (this is an ultramafic rock, of the type that makes portions of the mantle, with similar proportions of orthopyroxene and clinopyroxene; an alternative name would be a pyroxenite). Unfortunately I did not see any boulders of dunite (an ultramafic rock formed by 90% olivine crystals) or rodingite dikes (this is a metasomatic rock that forms upon hydration of the mantle, with a distinctive white color due to the abundance of scapolite), so I had to content myself with recognizing these exotic rocks in the rock walls of the town. Luckily for the homeowners I was not carrying my geologist hammer.

The shuttle came at last, and I was surprised that it was the same friendly driver who had told me of the schedule earlier on. I was reaching for my wallet to pay a hefty fee when I was pleasantly surprised to learn that the shuttle was free! I love free! The shuttle must have taken 20 of us up the mountain, and we all asked at what time was the last run down the mountain, which made me think that there was going to be a glut for return seats after the shuttle had delivered several batches of 20. Maybe I needed to take an earlier shuttle down from the mountain … ah, but there are no printed schedules anywhere, so I was going to have to stalk the shuttle stop to catch him in one of his afternoon runs.

The Troodos Mountains are very pretty. They had a coating of snow, so there were tons of locals who had come for a walk, or to bring the kids to play in the snow. Ah, but me breaking my leg in black ice has caused me to be deeply suspicious of ice, so there were only a limited number of paths I felt like exploring. One of them brought me to a panoramic view of the mountains, and of the big asbestos mine that has placed Cyprus as one of the world’s largest producers of asbestos (or amianto in Greek). Not surprising to find this mine here, because serpentinite minerals found in ophiolites often rearrange themselves as asbestos fibers. The only thing I didn’t see was a copper mine, a commodity that made Cyprus famous in antiquity (they exported ingots of copper all over the Mediterranean, thus fueling the Bronze Age). I expected to see copper mines because copper sulfide accumulations are often found in and around submarine hydrothermal vents, but if it had been obvious it would have been mined a few millennia BC.

After a delicious lunch of grilled pork kebabs, eaten around a warm and smokey fire, I went back to the bus stop. How long would I have to wait there? No, the best thing was to be proactive and hitch a ride down the mountain. So I did, and after half hour of sticking my thumb up a young couple picked me up. They had rented a cabin in the mountains for the long weekend, and were heading down to a nearby town to look for lunch. Fabulously friendly Cypriots we were soon engaged in a lively conversation about Mexico, online instruction, the French Revolution, and the struggle between Julius Caesar and senate of the Roman Republic. Too bad Kakopetria was only 15 minutes away.

So I took my 1.50 euro bus back to Nicosia, and enjoyed the transition from the high mountains to the plains where the capital sprawls. Then I looked to the mountains to the north, in the invaded part of Cyprus, and spotted a giant Turkish flag drawn on the mountains with rocks and colored powder. Talk about provocation. The peaceful Cypriots must feel their gut wrenched every time they look north.

As soon as I got to Nicosia I had to look for a pharmacy where I could get my Covid rapid test, so tomorrow I can cross the border into the occupied zone and take the plane to Ankara. I was lucky and right away found a pharmacy that offered the service for only 4 euros. The young woman in charge asked me what I needed to test for, and when I explained she nodded knowingly and lined up what was needed. Swab, swab and I was asked to wait for 15 minutes, at the end of which she gave me two pieces of paper, explaining that the one was for the border crossing and the other was for the airport. Perfect!

I had decided to treat myself to a steak dinner at the restaurant where my fellow lodger, Axileas, works as the grill master. The restaurant is called the Zahoulis Grill, and according to Axileas is very good. I was subjected to the Covid interrogation by the head waiter, who was unimpressed by my test results and my tattered vaccination certificate. Finally he reluctantly agreed to let me in, and I found that in the whole of the big restaurant there were only two dining parties and me. No wonder if you have to produce your Death Certificate before they let you in! Now I played my special card, and sent my regards to Axileas. The head waiter appeared unimpressed, but when my friend came around to say hello and recommend the best dish in the menu the whole tone of the afternoon changed. The waitress was all smiles, and was delighted to learn that I was Mexican! She asked me many questions and treated me with special care. I had asked for the 700 grams pork flank, which was indeed enormous and delicious, and by the time I was done I was ready to roll. So I asked for the check, but before she brought me a buttered cream with berries dessert, and when the check came I noticed that she had given me a Mexican discount of 10% (that’s right, it said “Mexican Discount”; I wish I had kept the check to show it to you all). My friend came out to say goodbye, and the whole outfit waved at me as I headed for the exit. Rarely have I felt so loved 😊

All good things must come to an end, and my pleasant visit to Cyprus was not an exception. The following morning I said goodbye to Andy, my host, and took the 8:30 bus to downtown. I got off at Solomos Square and took an easy stroll down Ledra Street to the border. This time everything was in order, and by 9:30 am I was walking down the streets of north Nicosia, which in 50 years has transformed itself into a Turkish city. I had with me about 300 euros and figured I would try to survive for the next 6 days on this amount, changing euros into Turkish liras little by little. The exchange rate is 1 euro = 15 lira.

Andy had guessed I would have to pay about 50 euros to get to Ercan Airport, which I thought was scandalously high because the airport cannot be more than 25 km away. So, being ultimately cheap I figured I would try to take a bus there. Where to find such bus? I asked a gentleman who was hanging around a bus stop, and barely understanding “airport” he kept saying “terminal”. Clearly, he was suggesting I had to go to the bus depot. But where was that? My informant asked me to follow him and delivered me in the hands of a bus driver, and he in turn asked me to jump in so he could take me to the “terminal” without asking me to pay the fare. He dropped me off at a huge parking lot, and with mimicry directed me to the far back of the depot, where I finally found the airport bus, which for 3 euros took me there without fuzz. You can find nice people everywhere if you take the time to look for them.

Ercan “International” Airport is a leper among airports. Because the UN does not legitimize the invasion by Turkey, the airport cannot be used by any airline that abides by international treaties. The only airlines that use it, in defiance to the international rules, are Turkish Airlines and Pegasus. Turkish Airlines is not allowed to fly into the regular Cypriot airport at Larnaca. I think Pegasus flies into Tunis, which is why the airport has added the term “International” to its name (just like the Monclova International Airport 😊).

The trip to Ankara was uneventful, but I am pretty sore that no one asked to see the visa for which I paid 150 euros, or the Turkish Health Certificate for which I paid another 75 euros. I suspect I have been taken!