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Day 245 | Four: Cruising in Cyprus to Paphos | 20 August 2017

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This is Cyprus Road Trip #4 and we’re headed to pretty Paphos.

Today represents our final exploring around the island of Cyprus with our backpacking family. We’re heading out west today to explore what the sprawling city of Paphos has to offer. As we depart and motor down the motorway, we pass the often seen Larnaka Salt Lake which looks spectacular this morning. Each time we drive past the salt lake it seems to be different depending on the time of day and the position of the sun. It’s looking too good to simply drive past so I ask driver Steve to pull up on the side and I quickly change lenses on my LUMIX G7 camera and jump out of the car, run across the road and take this spectacular shot of the listed ancient monument Hala Sultan Tekke mosque in Larnaka with the tall stick like wind turbines on the hills in the background.

This mosque is located on the west bank of Larnaka Salt Lake which is southern Cyprus, and at the moment it’s regarded as the third holiest place for Muslims in the world to come to pray. During the Ottoman Empire, Ottoman-flagged ships would hang their flags at half mast when off the shores of Larnaka, and salute Hala Sultan with cannon shots. But the Greek Cypriots are annoyed that they are not permitted to visit their holy places, located in Turkish occupied northern Cyprus, so they want to prevent Muslim worshippers from visiting this mosque. It’s a tit for tat fight that seems to have no end while Turkey continues to occupy the northern land.

The road and landscape today is familiar territory both inside and outside the car: the kids have their ear plugs firmly wedged within their ears and the scenery all around us unfolds to reveal dry and rocky mountains that don’t have pointy peaks but rather roll into one another like fat, playful children. The cut of stone to allow for the construction of the motorway reveals many different layers of rock and it’s an interesting sight.

We turn off the motorway preferring to take old Limassol Road or the old coastal road that hugs the magnificent coastline and provides impressive views out over the blue Mediterranean Sea. We stop again at a point of land where we can park the car and get out for a wander to peer over the rocky edge. There is a small temple built here that is situated off to the side of the car park, It contains many smooth sea rocks that have the names of loved one’s written in Texta on them.

Looking westward the coastline is rugged and snakes all the way as far as the eye can see. It’s a glorious sight of blue sky above and blue sea below with white rocks scattered off the coast. Little do we know that we are looking down upon the most famous birthplace in Greek mythology – Aphrodite’s Rock.

Petra Tou Romiou – the Rock of Aphrodite

We pull the car over arriving into a small car parking area with a cafe. We’re hopeful for a vacant space on a pleasant Sunday afternoon in this rough and rocky unpaved and uneven parking lot. There are cars parked out along the highway, but we do find one. There’s a café selling all sorts of beach going equipment, cold drinks and ice-creams. The girls don’t want to get out of the car to see the rock. They don’t see the value in seeing a rock jutting out from the water. Fair enough. Although we try to coax them to come along, for just 10 minutes it doesn’t work. I’ve learnt to let go, that it’s their choice to not participate or get out of the car to stretch the legs, so we leave them sitting there with the car doors ajar to let the warm outside air fill the cavity while Steve, Charlie and I wander off down a walkway underpass. The underpass walkway is extremely narrow; like a bunker. If someone walked in through the beach side, I doubt we’d manage to get past one another in here. So we walk quickly!

The narrow underpass leads out to a quaint beach. The sea is strewn with jagged rocks towering out in this small cove with plenty of visitors swimming and snorkelling around the rocks. Why wouldn’t you – the water is CRYSTAL clear. I’ve not seen anything quite like the clarity of the water here. There are many enjoying this idyllic protected beach with the water continuously lapping up at the shoreline.

The Greek name Petra tou Romiou (the Rock of the Greek) is associated with the legendary Byzantine hero Digenis Akritas. According to legend he kept the marauding Saracen Arabs (7th – 10th Centuries) at bay with his amazing strength and came to free Cyprus from its Saracen invaders. With one hand he was said to have grabbed hold of the 160km long Kyrenia Mountain range (those that now reside in occupied Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus) thereby forming Pentadaktylos Mountain which is his hand print known as the Five Finger Mountain. Then with his other hand he heaved a huge rock and tossed it over Cyprus to Paphos into the sea at the Saracens who were trying to land. The rock still remains and thus gives the region its name.

This exact place, also according to legend, is where the Greek goddess Aphrodite rose from the waves. There are a couple of unique stories about how Aphrodite was actually created in the foam of the sea. The Greek word aphros means foam, and Hesiod relates in his Theogony that Aphrodite was created from the sea-foam produced by the severed genitals of Uranus (Heaven), after his son Cronus threw them into the sea. Charming. The created girl, Aphrodite, floated ashore on a scallop shell.

Aphrodite, as we know, was the Goddess of love and was known for being mischievous, flirty, beautiful, and very good at seduction so much so that she was known to have had flings with other Gods, and mortals like Ares, Adonis, & Ankhises. The Romans called her Venus (hence the famous arm-less statue known as the Venus de Milo) but she lived on Mount Olympus with the other supreme deities and was mismatched to the homely craftsman-god, Hephaestus. In Greek mythology, the story unfolds that the other gods feared that Aphrodite’s beauty might lead to conflict and war, through rivalry for her favours; so Zeus married her off to Hephaestus who was a hideous looking man and their union was, apparently, not a happy one.

Now I don’t know that much at all about Greek mythology, but standing here at this site is something quite unique to experience knowing these stories. The other interesting aspect of this beach is that there is not one trace of sand on this beach. Instead the entire cove is covered in perfectly smooth rounded stones of varying shades of size and greyness. And next to the underground walkway entrance are bushes literally covered in pieces of white tissue paper tied to the spindly branches and twigs. Not sure what that all means but it looks rather odd.

We walk back, deciding not to climb the steep rock before us as others had done and continue exploring.

Aphrodite’s Temple

Situated on top of the mountain overlooking the tranquil sea is Aphrodite’s Temple museum. It’s a quiet sanctuary located in Kouklia village which is about 14 km east of Paphos along the B6 motorway.

Palaipafos, which means Old Paphos, was one of the most celebrated pilgrimage centres of the ancient Greek world, and a once city-kingdom of Cyprus. Here stood the famous Sanctuary of Aphrodite that showcases the most ancient remains that date back to the 12th century BC. We didn’t go in to wander around the ruins in this unrelenting midday heat but we enjoy the old charm feel of the sanctuary and its town.

Paphos – the Capital of Culture

We continue driving towards the township of Paphos. We depart Old Paphos or Kouklia, and head towards new Paphos which represents a modern Cypriot city that incorporates the harbour, ancient ruins of tombs, fortresses, theatres and villas at Paphos Archaeological Park. The harbour is extensive with crystal clear warm waters of course, full of private boats and ‘real’ tourist glass bottom boats offering a couple of hours out on the sea promising sightings of turtles, ancient undersea ship wrecks and complimentary bout of sea sickness if you’re prone to that on the choppy sea (just check out the Trip Advisor comments!).

It’s a beautiful town with plenty of space to walk and wander in. It’s just too hot to do that today and we decide to stroll down the promenade hoping to find a place to sit down and enjoy a swim.

Along the long promenade is a series of display boards that give a short description of the extensive historical features that the city of Paphos is proud to claim accompanied by photos. There are towering palm trees here also that line the promenade that gently rustle in the slight breeze.

Medieval Castle – Pafos/Paphos Castle

At the end of the harbour is Pafos Castle.

Originally a Byzantine fort built to protect the harbour, Pafos Castle was rebuilt by the Lusignans in the 13th Century, dismantled by the Venetians in 1570 during the Ottoman invasion and again rebuilt by the Ottomans after they captured the island in the 16th Century.

During its long history, the Pafos Castle was used, as well as for protection, as prison cells, and even as a storage area for salt when the island was a British colony. In 1935 it was declared an ancient monument and today is considered as one of the hallmarks of the Pafos region. Many cultural events take place in the square just in front of the castle, while during September each year the Pafos Aphrodite Festival which presents a different annual opera staged here by world-famous artists with the castle building usually acting as part of the scenery. It’s impressive and obviously a centrepiece of Paphos tourism and entertainment right at the water’s edge.

So What to Do in Paphos with Teenagers!

With the heat bearing down on us like we’ve just landed on Mars without a proper space suit, the girls start to shrivel up and emotionally unravel. They are not keen on seeing medieval castles, or Greek mythology. All they want to do is eat! And so it starts the standoff – parents versus kids. It’s been building for the entire journey here – commencing with staying in the car and refusing to participate in anything so far today except if it involves food or cool drinks. So relations have soured somewhat before even arriving into this town.

We enquire about a boat tour but it’s overly tourist oriented and a bit too pricey for our liking, plus the girls are really not all that keen even though there’s snorkelling fun to be had on the boat. The tensions have hit the high-end already, so it’s time to regroup and settle for the simple in life-like swimming. But on the side of the promenade in Paphos in the unbearable heat our family has a meltdown. In the end Steve and I walk down the street in search of public toilet facilities, as Charlie is busting, with the girls following behind. But at some time they stop following us and end up sitting outside a cafe.

We find the public toilet and nearby see there are change rooms and shower facilities plus a bunch of other kids jumping off a short pier-like walkway and into the refreshing water. Looks like fun. So we walk back up the promenade trying to find our missing sullen daughters and let them know what’s on offer just down the road. We collect bathers and towels from the car and head back down to the water. It’s testing times.

It all ends up working out as a nice afternoon. Charlie and Dacey jump in and actually enjoy themselves (who would have thought) while Ash and Billie sit under some shade watching the fun. Steve jumps in while I continue deep breathing exercises on the side alone watching the world go by and trying to get myself back from the turning into the Incredible Hulk. Finally, I change and walk down the slippery staircase into the warm Mediterranean bath. It’s deep and I can’t touch the bottom, but it’s refreshing.

We stay here for some time, slowly moving over to the neighbouring restaurant with the funky music and purchase some cool drinks to enjoy together hoping to break the teen spell. The relations are still cold war variety with some of the kids but they’re getting warmer, albeit slowly.

But for some reason 13-year old Billie is giving me the evil eye as we sit on the chairs. And in Greek superstition that can be a curse especially seeing I’m not wearing my “evil eye” talisman protector since  I’d been in the water or a swim. So I tell her to just go for a walk – do something as they’ve been sitting in a car all morning and now sitting at a cafe watching others all afternoon. So she gets up and walks out! Long story short she doesn’t return which sends us on a “let’s find Billie” mission up and down the main promenade in Paphos.

But she’s found, walking towards us in the opposite direction that Steve’s searching. They all sit down with Steve to get a late lunch. I couldn’t fathom food, so walk back up to the harbour and medieval castle with my camera and explore on my own. I’ll meet them back at the car when they’re finished.

I discover a long walkway around the back of the castle with a long line interesting displays of artwork. A series of large crosses depicting some sort of cultural connection with Cyprus. It’s quite an engaging and extensive work of colourful art along this walk way and highly recommended. It looks like they may have been created by a school or younger children. There’s one cross in particular that focusses on the Turkish occupation with a dagger in the heart of Cyprus. It stood out to me and I took a photo of it. After visiting Lefkosia and into the northern area yesterday, it’s a poignant piece of art that still reflects many of the sentiments shared by the Greek Cypriot population to this day, even its younger generation. It’s still hot as the sun is nearly setting. But the views out onto the sea are spectacular and in some way it centres me and calms me down well enough to return to my family and continue our exploring of this town.

The Tomb of the Kings

The Tombs of the Kings is a large necropolis lying about two kilometres north of Paphos harbour in Cyprus. It is a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1980. Only half of us are exploring this historic site this afternoon – Steve, me and Charlie. It’s a perfect time to do it too, as the harshness of the unbearable heat has subsided and it’s a more pleasant stroll in the desert-like landscape in and around the tombs.

The monumental underground tombs are carved out of solid rock and date back to the Hellenistic and Roman periods from 3rd Century BC to 3rd Century AD. Rather than kings (as the names suggests), it is actually high-ranking officials and aristocracy that were buried here, but the size and splendour of the tombs – some decorated with Doric pillars – gave the locality its grand name. The stone work is amazing due to its sheer thickness and location. We just wander down into these tombs and admire the strength and detail in the columns and the carved out tombs located along the walls.

Some of the tombs imitate the houses of the living, with the burial chambers opening onto a peristyle atrium. Others have niches in the walls that stored bodies. They are similar to tombs found in Alexandria in Egypt demonstrating the close relations between the two cities during the Hellenistic period.

The time of day is simply magical with streaks of golden sunset light escaping from the clouds as the sun falls behind the sea.

We return to the car in the car parking lot of The Tomb of the Kings. We are ready to start our journey back to home base Larnaka with our traveling teenage tribe and the thoughts of giant Mythological Gods emerge as we watch the sun set across the sea.

Day 244 | Three: Cruising in Cyprus to Lefkosia & Beyond | 19 August 2017

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Road Trip #3 is a drive to the only divided capital city that exists in the world in the 21st Century – Lefkosia (Nicosia). We are also traveling beyond the divided capital city and into occupied Turkish area  of Cyprus now referred to as the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (or TRNC for short because that’s a mouthful!). It’s going to be an amazing adventure delving into the heart of Cyprus’ 43-year division.

We hired a car from a friendly Greek Cypriot working in Larnaka for the weekend to explore more of the island of Cyprus. We pop in to ask him a question to confirm we are legally okay to drive where we are planning to go before heading off to the capital city of Lefkosia, “Can we actually take the hire car over the border without any issues?”

There is no problem in crossing the border, and the man responds on the one hand that there isn’t any issue but on the other he tells Steve that he doesn’t want to know about it. Telling Steve I will turn a blind eye, like we never had this conversation. The boss is a proud Greek Cypriot and the mere knowledge of heading to the “Turkish occupied side” is more or less frowned upon by Greek Cypriots who do not accept nor recognise the actions of the violent Turkish occupation way back in 1974. Even our scuba diver, Marios when we asked if he’d ever travelled to the northern area of Cyprus said he couldn’t because there were way too many red flags. It boils the Greek Cypriot blood knowing that Turkey has been occupying their northern land for 43 years illegally but it doesn’t look likely to to change.

We drive north, departing home base at 11am, along the smooth Cypriot motorway on a fine day of sunshine and puffy clouds scattering the sky. We plan on arriving to the famously divided Ledra Street for lunch. I’m hoping we turn up to an information booth that has come up on my Google Maps where we can stop and get some further information about touring in and around the northern parts.

First we need to locate a car park. We pass through the winding streets, and then repeat this a couple of times as we are getting lost through the maze of one way streets that are not updated on the offline Maps.me. We’re going a little stir crazy around and around the same streets and there’s a lot of congested traffic on these one way streets right now. Although Lefkosia is a capital city and the largest city in Cyprus, it is also unlike any of the other beachside tourist cities on the island. Firstly, Lefkosia is an un-tourist like destination which means not many holiday-makers take the time to visit this city. I love the sound of that and it’s a chance to leave the tourist beach scene behind and get a sense of the usual urban lifestyle of Cyprus.

We find a car parking lot that costs a couple of euros for parking. We walk down the street and head to the heart of the division: Ledra Street. So imagine this: a long shopping street strip with old buildings  on either side housing modern shops. It’s beautifully old charm and welcoming. Plus Ledra Street is a no car zone, just pedestrian and shopping precinct, with an array of colourful shade sails erected overhead to keep the burning sun at bay. The vibe is casual, and happy. People are shopping, eating and enjoying the precinct.

And then one landscape transforms into another. Greek Cyprus abruptly ends and Turkish Cyprus or TRNC starts. It’s an intersection of hostilities and indifference where one country ends and another begins. The Greek blue and white flags flap vigorously in the breeze on one side with the contrasting Turkish red and white flags on the other. It’s not hard to know where we are at any point in time as there are lots of flags claiming attention in this small region.

Crossing the Border at Ledra Street

Out the front of the Greek Cypriot border control, just metres from the green line that divides the country is a piece of art called The Resolution by Theodoulos Gregoriou. The Resolution is an artistic interpretation and defiant protest to the violation of human rights by Turkish government in 1974. On the round cement base of approximately a meter in height, part of the text of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights is written in embossed Greek letters. A stack of steel lances diagonally arranged hit the centre of the text, symbolically destroying it. It’s visually appealing to the visitor and a thought provoking piece of art to look at before entering the border control to walk to the occupied side.

Just near this piece of art is a bench seat with the word PEACE written above it. The girls comply with my request for a photo of the four of them sitting on the peace bench seat even though it’s so very hot. Today also marks out 8 months of traveling around the world and I think this photo is a great one to celebrate that milestone.

We are guided to walk through the Greek Cypriot passport control booth. A man asks us what nationality we are, and after we answer with Australian he brushes his hand in a friendly manner for us to move forward without having much more prying at passports. We’re in the section of no man’s land and walk past large pots containing olive trees until we reach the Turkish side. The olive branch, a symbol of peace or victory, stands out as we wander down and though the process of the unofficial border control. This symbol, deriving from the customs of ancient Greece, is a strange sight considering this place remains so divided. It seems the Greek Cypriots refuse to give up on their country or enosis (merging with Greece).

We line up at the Turkish border patrol area and our passports are looked at and a man enters details into a computer while sitting behind a glass window. We receive no stamp; not even a slip of white paper is handed to us which I had read might happen on previous blog posts. This is because this whole extensive set up here by Turkey is not acknowledged by any other country state in the world except Turkey themselves. So all we have is the moment to experience of walking through an unrecognised border. It defies logic really.

The Turkish Cypriot side if vastly different to the Greek Cypriot side. The signs are different, the money is Lira and the churches are replaced with mosques. As soon as we walk through we are at the North Cyprus tourist bureau collecting glossy maps and brochures promoting all the key cities and attractions of northern Cyprus. A lovely Turkish woman behind the counter is more than helpful with handing out the tourist marketing brochures to Steve. But there’s something else, other than the obvious physical aspects, that changes from south to north. It’s the vibe. We have the feeling that the men sitting at the local cafe seem to stare at us, and it’s this feeling that doesn’t quite put us at ease. But we walk though the stares and the uneasy feeling. We’ve done it many times before in the other more conservative countries.

What do we call this part of Cyprus anyway? As a foreigner we’re likely to call it North Cyprus. But if you were Greek they’d call it Occupied Cyprus or Occupied Territories (as they also have the British bases here still that were negotiated with independence). Whatever the name, it’s all the same deal. Cyprus is a divided country which is often referred to in international relations and political media as the Cyprus Issue or Problem with neither side finding common ground as to how the Cyprus Issue is to be resolved. Greek Cypriots still yearn for enosis, while Turkish Cypriots call for partition.

As we walk up the street, it’s certainly more low-key in regards to the type of shops on this side of the border. There are plenty of market stalls that line either side of the street, but the big name branded stores are not here. People seem to be staring more on this side of the road too as previously we blended in without any attention directed on us. Men are sitting at a cafe under the big sprawling green trees as we walk past to an unused and run down water fountain.

We purchase an icy cold drink for the kids. It’s a great way of getting some instant coolness and it keeps them quiet while we meander through the Turkish occupied side of Cyprus. Here the currency has changed too to the Turkish Lira, rather than the Euro, to purchase goods but they readily accept Euro with a quick conversion using a handy calculator.

The whole process of crossing this “border” has got our older girls quite curious about why it’s a border when it’s not really a border and why it’s not recognised by anyone in the world. On the other side, they’re asking Steve and me why it is so? It doesn’t make sense. How can Turkey do what they’ve done? Why have they done this? What’s the purpose? Some really good questions are being asked, but unfortunately there is no clear and concise answer to any of them. It’s a grey area for the international community, let alone my ability to explain the situation succinctly, and one that has only further solidified after 43 years of negotiations and stalemates. These colourful umbrellas change the mood somewhat!

A Brief History of Turkish Occupation (as far as my limited knowledge of it is…)

Most of the Turks who had settled on the island during the three centuries (307 years to be exact) of Ottoman rule remained when control of Cyprus—although not sovereignty—was ceded to Britain in 1878. Many, however, left for Turkey during the 1920s.

At the moment I’m reading a fictional account of the British occupation of Cyprus and it’s a very interesting read that helps me understand the dynamics of past years. The book is called Aphrodite’s War by Andrea Busfield which is set in Cyprus in 1955 in the midst of the Cyprus Emergency where growing tensions emerge between Greek Cypriot guerrilla warriors (EOKA or National Organisation of Cypriot Fighters) and the British colonists. The EOKA are trying to get Britain to leave their country and realise their long dreamt ideal state of political enosis – the union of Cyprus into a Greek state.

The British gave independence to Cyprus in 1960. But between independence and the Turkish invasion in 1974 was a string of inter communal violence. The raising of enosis was again placed on the agenda and disregarded Turkish partition (otherwise known as taksim). A Greek Cypriot led enosis coup d’etat was the impetus for Turkey to send military troops to the northern coastal town of Kyrenia and start the push south to occupy what they believed was their right to the previously held Ottoman jewel and to protect the minority of Turks from the possibility of enosis.

It’s a long and sordid history of occupation, violence and discrimination. It’s an amazing timeline that I didn’t really know much about until living here. I really enjoyed reading all about it on Lonely Planet’s site here and the BBC’s timeline of the events leading up to Turkey’s invasion here.

We wander past an ancient Turkish bath facility commonly known as a Hamman in Turkish, where foreigners are also invited to participate in the mass bathing each Friday. Maybe next time I say. The girls couldn’t think of anything stranger to be honest. But for me it sounds like a pleasant, albeit revealing experience. Cleansing the body clean in a large bath full of women doing the same thing. All the soaps and scrubs that you could need can be purchased at the local market too. But what feels more strange than jumping into a bath full of naked Turkish women is simply being here in this place just across the street and feeling the lingering angst of history that continues to exist today on this road that divides one country into two unwillingly.

After exploring the Turkish side of Ledra Street, we return and walk back over the border. This time there’s a bit of a line up as we re-enter Greek Cyprus. The sun is hot and it’s beating down on the girls so much so that they are starting to shrivel their faces up in despair.

We get through, again without a stamp or anything officially recognising that we have crossed an international border. The main change in the streetscape is the colour of the flags and the type of shops lining the streets. I think about the amount of money that is required to keep up this border farce. It must cost a fortune for both sides.

From here we enjoy lunch at a small and non air-conditioned Greek Souvlaki shop. We order the tastiest chicken Gyros I think I’ve ever tasted for 3.80 euros each while the girls take an opportunity to shop and look at the bargain baskets at the shops and enjoy some air conditioned relief. We walk back to the car and drive to Metehan Kermia, a border crossing for vehicles so that we can explore northern Cyprus for the rest of the afternoon.

Welcome to the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC)

We cross the border. It’s very straight forward. There’s a booth where passports are checked and scrutinized but not stamped and extra car insurance is purchased. Due to our car being hired in the southern part of Cyprus, we need to take out extra car insurance while driving in the north. It costs just an extra 20 Euros and lasts for three days over the border. Steve pays and receives a certificate-like insurance policy. It’s quite a fancy certificate, one like the kids might receive in a spelling test, which I’ll keep as our official stamp ie. a replacement for our passports not getting stamped through a border control.

Once through the border control area, we are facing the impressive Kyrenia Mountain range. Its highest peak is Mount Kyparissovouno looming at 1,024m and is just as impressive as our visit up the Troodos Mountains but smaller than Mount Olympus. But the mythical story about how the mountain range was formed is a story worth sharing.

The Kyrenia Mountains are also known as the Five Finger Mountains. They run for 120km parallel to the northern Cypriot coastline. The range is known as Pentadactylos in Greek, Beshparmak in Turkish, and Five Fingers in English. The Five Fingers can be seen from the fingered peak that is one of its main features. The first area extensively settled by mainland Turks after the Turkish intervention in Cyprus in 1974 stretches from the eastern part of Ayios Amvrosios to the Karpass Peninsula and across the Pentadactylos mountains.

The mountains are composed of a narrow fold of limestone with occasional deposits of marble. Their name comes from a colourful legend that tells how the Byzantine hero Dighenis, forced to escape from the Arabs leaped from Asia Minor onto North Cyprus. He is obviously a giant as he landed with his five fingers leaving their impression on the jagged peaks of Mount Besparmak (five fingers mean besparmak in Turkish). Legend then tells that Dighenis used his other hand and threw a boulder across the island where it landed in the area of western Cyprus, or near old Paphos. Extraordinary legends marking nature for an eternity.

We are driving straight for the range and are left wondering how we are going to get beyond the looming mountains that we are driving towards. Our southern Cypriot sim cards no longer work in the north so we are offline for the rest of the day.

As we drive closer to the base of the mountain range, we see the obvious Turkish mark of a painted flag the southern slope of the mountain range. It may no longer be a land full of jumping giants, but it is a land of the giant Turkish flag and an abundance of smaller red and inverted white flags parading themselves along the streets, motorways and hills in the north. It’s at once blatant and in your face. Such large-scale marking of ownership. Like a flag on the southern side will somehow cement the impression that Turkey has rights to claim ownership. How could you not miss the message that says this part of the world is ours! I do feel for the people of Cyprus who have been forced to live with British occupation and now Turkish invasion and had to partition their island country into thirds. A terrible aspect of the brash ugliness of political power in the world then and today.

The translation of the words under the flag read, “How fortunate is the person who can say I’m a Turk”. Certainly not the Greek Cypriots!

1st Stop: Kyrenia | Girne

Situated between the Five Fingers Mountains and the Mediterranean Sea, Kyrenia is a lovely old port city. The main attraction here to see the horse-show shaped harbour which has become the symbol of the city. It is here that old buildings from the Venetian, Ottoman, and British Colonial periods merge along with modern restaurants, bars and small boutique hotels as well as rowdy backpacker haunts. It’s where there’s a lovely concoction of old and new are showcased to enjoy. Walking along the horse shoe shaped harbour promenade we take advantage of taking some photos with the magnificent yachts and boats as background.

On the fringe of the harbour stands the historical Girne Castle which represents the largest and oldest preserved castle in all of Cyprus and bears indelible traces of the Byzantine, Lusignan and Venetian periods and houses an extensive museum.

We stop for a drink harbour side to freshen ourselves and seek refuge under the shade of the tourist umbrellas. We enjoy the relaxing atmosphere that is here and would like to have stayed longer to explore more of this city. In fact, if we come back to Cyprus we would definitely stay for a couple of nights in northern Cyprus to see more of this third of the country.

On the radar for next time is a stop off to see St Hilarion Castle. As we are coming down into the pass of the mountain range on our way to Kyrenia, we passed a sign post with St Hilarion on it. It was originally built as a monastery and named after the monk who chose to live in hermitage here. A monastery and church was built up in the mountains in the 10th Century and the Byzantine’s commenced its fortification in the 11th Century to keep Arab pirates at bay. Anyway it’s an amazing stone structure atop of a craggy stone mountain top and is an impressive line-up of historical sites in northern Cyprus.

But I have other plans for our one-day adventure in Northern Cyprus. I really want to travel up the tail of the stingray shaped country. The maps online are not working as best as they could, and the map handed to us gives us names in Turkish not original Cypriot names. So it’s like pinning the tail on the donkey game, and we pick a point on the map and drive to it. That point happens to be Kaplica Beach.

2nd Stop: Kaplica Beach

Previous to the Turkey occupation, Kaplica was a Greek Cypriot village which was depopulated of Greek Cypriots and resettled with Turkish Cypriots. Today the village attracts many camper vans and holidaymakers to it’s quiet and pristine white sandy beach. So we stop here for a swim and stroll along the beach.

The water is again crystal clear and I think it’s warmer than down south! People are in the water with just their heads bobbing out on the surface of the sea. There are some rocks nearby so Steve and I go for a walk over to explore, and I spot an amazing camera shot around the corner. It’s become one of my most favourite shots.

The kids are enjoying sitting at a table at the beach café with a cool drink or ice-cream. Only Dacey is keen to get into the water and enjoy the bath swim. I look around turning my head out to the never-ending landscape that is water and realise we are sitting out on the tail of the sting ray. I’m thinking out there is Turkey, Lebanon, Syria and the other Levant countries. I have been programmed through watching too much Australian and North American news channels to be scared and fearful of these countries. But right here, knowing I am just a head bobbing in the water makes me feel insignificant to all the news and events that unfold in our living rooms.

We do not have any Lira on us so getting water and drinks and ice-creams has used up all of our euro and it’s pointless getting money out of the ATM as we are not staying in this occupied Turkish land. So we share a cola, dry off and hit the road again making our long journey back to the southern part of Cyprus.

3rd Stop: Heading home via Famagusta | Gazimagusa

There’s nothing like getting lost on the back streets of a country when you have no internet to direct us home via Google Maps. But we have been able to use to Maps.me at times as an offline resource in finding our way in and out of northern Cyprus.

And as the sun makes its magnificent exit for the day over the Kyrenian Mountains, we are cruising south bound to the city of Famagusta (now called Gazimagusa) where we will be able to make our border crossing back into southern Cyprus.

On the way we pass many homes and resorts that are partially built. It’s a ghost town of inert construction, partially completed resorts before an economic downturn hit the island and the rest of Europe in 2008. It never really started back up again. So in its wake is stilted homes and half complete concrete shells of constructions with overgrown grass and weeds growing around them. It’s a ghastly site. It seems that most of northern Turkey occupied Cyprus is struggling with this continued down turn, except for the major cities of Kyrenia and Famagusta. In these metropolises are private pockets of shiny light casinos for the high rollers to fly and out of to make their mark and create their destiny. But for the ordinary people, it looks like life is a struggle to make ends meet.

We drive to the Beyarmudu border crossing and are in a long line of cars being questioned by Greek Cypriot border controllers. Some boots are opened and vans are emptied. It’s always an uneasy feeling sitting in the car and trying to act normal at these types of places. Should we be stony faced like our passport photos reflect or can we continue breathing throughout the ordeal? We watch two minivans in front emptied of the young men who are standing on the kerb clutching their bags and belongings and being questioned by the Greek Cypriot border control and we wonder whether we’ll be next.

A lovely rounded at the girth man approaches our car and Steve hands him our bundle of passports. There’s a white sticker on the back where I have written their names in black Texta only to keep track with the constant handling out and collecting back our passports every time we move country. We have been on 12 flights this year! The pile of navy blue passports is handed over through the driver’s window. He has a British accent and a friendly manner and asks us a couple of questions while we’re seated in the car – firstly where we’re from, what we’ve been doing today and if we’ve purchased anything like liquor or cigarettes. Then he asks if anyone has asked us to bring anything back for them over the border and where we landed originally.

You see the Greek Cypriots do not allow anyone who lands via plane in the northern part of Cyprus to move past its borders and enter southern Cyprus because the flight and the stamp and the whole Turkish presence and occupation is simply not recognised. Not by Greek Cypriots and no other country in the world except Turkey. It’s such a farce. All the answers to this lovely gentleman are an easy no. He glances at the car’s window, and on it is a sticker from Larnaka. And then he tells us to enjoy the rest of our stay and we’re on our way.

It’s a quiet drive back into the Larnaka along the motorway in the deep night. Everything here feels like home after being across the border in the so-called Turkey occupied land today. Funny how home occurs wherever you live somewhere for an extended period of time.

It’s been a big day of traveling out to the corners of this island country Cyprus and we are all very grateful to be able to get a sense of the tragic situation that this island finds itself in.

Days 242-248 | Larnaka, Cyprus week 4 FINALE | 17-23 August 2017

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Okie dokie, this week is our finale of living in this amazing town of Larnaka, Cyprus. Here goes…it’s a mixed bag this post.

Thursday

I’m getting some blog writing done this morning. I’m a bit behind, but with this travel lifestyle it’s quite a challenge keeping up the momentum of more than a two-days long routine. Steve, Charlie, and Ash head out to the gym every morning now. Previously they went in the afternoons with Billie, but they’ve changed it up as they think it’ll work better to boost their energy levels in the morning for completing their school work. Billie’s keen to stick to her afternoon routine which is school work in the mornings and then in the hottest part of the day heading to the air conditioned gym. She heads off on her own a couple of times without fuss. But that’s Billie.

Today Billie heads off to the gym quite happily on her own. She never ceases to amaze us our Bill Bill. Her self-motivation for school work and gym has flourished since travelling and she is way ahead in her Year 7 studies. Billie is even running with Steve every now and then. The girls joke around that she could skip a year! And for someone who really dislikes cooking, this year, and especially living here in Cyprus, she’s taken on preparing cooking her own healthy lunches and sometimes dinners. And she’s sticking to her promises unlike some other unnamed teens of the house who make promises that fall flat within a day. Billie’s plan is to eat only healthy whole foods for six days of the week, and has one day on the weekend as her I-can-eat-anything-day. It’s working well for her.

She’s a quiet achiever and gets the job done. But having said that she’s also transforming into a teen! Aghhh!!! Billie can be short, sharp and down right snappy at times and we have had a few clashes on the journey. But nothing out of the ordinary with the types of teen rebellion that has already passed before us. But what a difficult stage…and especially with three teens, nearly four, on the road for a year. Yes when I think of it like that we are actually crazy!

While Steve and the two girls are at gym, I’m supervising Dacey with her school work at the apartment. It’s going smoothly, mostly. But I’m often thinking that Dacey in Grade 6 has more tedious and convoluted Distance Education work to complete than Year 7 for Billie or Year 10 for Ash. For instance, we’ve been looking at the subject of procedures in English this week so there are a few recipes that we need to follow and then take photos to send back to the teacher in Australia. And then in Science we’ve been looking at matter and how it changes. But our issue is that we can’t always buy the ingredients listed while living in overseas locations. They’re just not available here! So we’ve had to bend the rules somewhat! She’s still following the procedure but using different ingredients. It’s been frustrating to say the least while we search for stuff to complete the set tasks, but I think we’re getting better at not worrying as much if we don’t have everything at our fingertips and creating something else.

Uploading work every 10 days is a struggle as it’s a long time to wait to upload the work. Then scanning it into a readable document and getting it sent to the Grade 6 teacher is cumbersome as well even with really good wifi. Not to mention the number of times we’ve needed a printer to print out pages so Dacey can answer questions. That’s really annoying! Of course we do not carry a portable printer around with us, so that’s another challenging aspect to getting work submitted and complete. It’s been especially hard in Cyprus too as many places have closed for the summer break – and that includes printers! If you only knew how much effort we’ve had to go to to find printers here! Grrr…

The relationship between child and being a parent as well as a distance education supervisor is a stressful one. They have almost collapsed into a pile of mess at times. To be honest, it just hasn’t worked like we imagined it would much of the time. But to do what we have done – outside the normal – will bring up situations and processes that are untested. We have certainly tested them this year, and learnt much about the psychology of learning and parenting on the road. We need to look at this with fresh eyes and work something out. Maybe in Vietnam.

Charlie and Ash are keen to head out this afternoon. They’ve asked me to come along with them for a bit of a shopping spree up in the tourist area off the main Finikoudes Beach. It’s a lot of fun as we visit fashion shops that we haven’t been into for quite some time. They’re keen to purchase some new tops. Charlie is the ultimate shopper and she can smell the bargain basket from miles away so she quickly snaps up a couple of tops for a couple of euro. Ash on the other hand is a more tedious shopper. So she buys nothing.

I buy a couple of new tops and a pair of funky black and white checkered shorts and I’m ready to leave the shopping precinct. I’m not the best shopping partner – I just don’t find it interesting enough todo for long periods of time. I’m ready for a bit of a girls cafe catchup with coffee and cake at a café along the beach promenade. One of the lovely aspects of having four girls is their ability and willingness to sit, talk and do coffee with me! We order coffee and cakes – carrot cake for me to share with Ash, while Charlie sees a Cheesecake that she “just has to have”. It’s air conditioned comfort in this cafe along with an soft couches to sit at and let the conversation unfold slowly. We chat about lots of things from the drama unfolding in friendship groups back home to choosing subjects for VCE next year to the familiar chime of missing home.

Funnily enough I receive a ping on my iPhone while we’re sitting there chatting. It’s a Messenger message from another world travelling mum who has been traveling for a year and a half with her husband and four daughters. The likeness of our families is uncanny. I have been touching base with the other traveling mum over the course of our year away every so often for a chat. And this one today is a simple message of support from one travelling US mum to another travelling Aussie mum who shares that after reading my recent blog post (where I share some of the inner conflicts and dramas of motivating the girls on the travel journey), she writes that she can fully understand where my frustration is coming from and tells me to hang in there with my teens…saying “one day they’ll thank you.”

It’s a message that I’m grateful to receive at this very moment in time. I feel a sigh of relief spread over my body as I crawl over her every word and hear that she is also going through the exact same issues with her tribe of traveling teens and tween girls too. I respond instantly to her letting her know that it’s such a relief to hear that from another traveling mum. Not that I’d wish this on anyone, I’m fully aware this idea of going away for an entire year is our own creation. But just feeling that I’m not alone and I’m not too crazy for totally disrupting our teens’ social life by taking them away from home and routine to travel the world for goodness sake is music to my ears. The guilty feelings I was lodging start to evaporate away. I know that in the whole scheme of my children’s lives, after they’ve had a chance to pause, digest and then reflect on our 2017 travel year and the experiences this year has given us, it represents a very small part of their lives. One year may seem long now, like forever for the teens when they’re separated from friends and family and normal life. But in five years time, when the older girls will be in their early 20s it will probably seem like a blob in their lives and after 20 years it will be a simple dot in time.

This fellow traveling mum’s message of support to me got me thinking of writing a letter to my traveling teenage daughters. If you’d like to read it, watch out for an upcoming blog post titled, Day 244 | A Letter to My Traveling Teenage Tribe | 19 August 2017.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Ash are happy to hang back a little longer at Finikoudes Beach and grab dinner out together for a change. I leave them with a kiss and hug goodbye like we’re old friends from way back. Amazing what coffee, cake and some downtime can do. I head out to the fruit and vegetable shop to buy ingredients so we can make a salad for the rest of the family’s dinner and then I walk down the lovely new and wide beach promenade towards Makenzy Beach in the glorious sunset. It’s such a lovely place and I walk with a deep knowledge that I have four utterly amazing daughters. Lucky me.

Late tonight we read about the terrorist attacks that have occurred in Barcelona. Steve sends a message to our friend Jose, whom we befriended in Malaga southern Spain, sending our sorrow at the news. He responds promptly with his thanks for our thoughts but the reality for many Spaniards is that they’re so used to terrorism now that it has become a part of life. I hear the same view coming from our British friends.

All I can think about is peace on earth.

Friday

Ground hog day – gym, swim, breakfast, school work. Maybe I do a bit of apartment cleaning! I’m loving living in smaller places. It makes the task of house cleaning negligible. I don’t even do the dishes – we learnt long ago, especially when there is no dishwasher, to set up a roster between the six of us with Sunday as anyone’s day. It’s worked well. So what’s left for me to “clean” in this small third floor apartment is sweep the floor and wipe down the benches! I’m LOVING this – why would I ever want to go home to a bigger house that needs more cleaning, like really?

Late this afternoon Steve collects the hire car we have booked for our final weekend of road tripping around the island of Cyprus. We decide to drive to Ayia Napa in the hire car just after collecting it to get a glimpse of the town closest to our home base Larnaka. It’s close to sunset and yet again there’s an amazing show of light in the sky as we drive to Ayia Napa.

Ayia Napa is a seaside beach resort. And it’s the place where my sister-in law Andrea lived for a few months while she was a free roaming backpacker. Looking down over the town is a sea of white buildings leading down to the sea and a pink dusk sky.

I’m certain Andrea would not recognise what Ayia Napa has become today. It’s a massive tourist destination with massive size resorts lining the white sandy beaches with long white deck chairs lined up like a squadron. Of course we arrive when the sun is setting, so we don’t see a whole lot of Ayia Napa, but we’re glad we came for to visit. I messaged Kate and Colin, the British couple we had met at our 20-year celebratory night asking them if they could recommend any places in Ayia Napa to have dinner as they had lived here for a few years back while the new Larnaka International Airport was being built. Kate replied to my message with her recommendation: Demitrion. It was a family seafood restaurant on the way home from Ayia Napa to Laranaka near Potumas.

We may not have seen the Ayia Napa Monastery which is meant to have an ancient 600-year old sycamore tree in front of the south gate, or the Cape Greco sea caves, or the Makronissos Tombs – 19 rock cut tombs where the deceased were placed in clay sarcophagus. We didn’t experience the Ayia Napa Square but we did see it from the hills above when entering the tourist city – full of lights and colourful joy rides rising up into the sky. But we did get to go to a sleepy fishing village within a small sea port with lots of boats and a restaurant that served great food, including amazing fish and chips. We blew the budget on this dinner tonight (80 euros) but walked away happy, content and full of good Greek Cypriot food and a lit up sky as we looked back at Ayia napa and all it’s lights.

Saturday

It’s Road Trip #3 for the Six Backpacks family. Today we head to the capital city of Cyprus, Lefkosia (aka Nicosia) and across the border into occupied Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC). I’m pretty excited about this road trip too and being able to experience what it’s like to walk across a border that divides a city in half. The blue line cuts through Lefkosia at shopping central Ledra Street. On one side of Ledra Street is Cyprus and on the other is occupied Turkey. It’s called “occupied” Turkey due to the fact that the actions of the Turkish government way back in 1974 until this day are not legal under any international law nor recognised by any other nation state in the world. Yet they’re here and they’re here in a big way with plenty of bright red flags flapping in this northern landscape. Even the Kyrenia Mountains are branded with large scale Turkish Cypriot flag and message that translates, “How fortunate is the person who can say I’m a Turk”.

With so many countries involved in Cyprus back then and still today, it’s commonplace for the town names in Cyprus to have up to three different names: English, Greek Cypriot, and Turkish. For example:

  • Larnaca (English), Larnaka (Greek Cypriot & Turkish) – an easier one!
  • Nicosia (English), Lefkosia (Greek Cypriot) and Lefkoşa (Turkish) – not too different.
  • Limassol (English), Lemesos (Greek Cypriot) and Limasol (Turkish) – same but now it starts to get more confusing…
  • Kyrenia (English), Keryneia (Greek Cypriot) and Girne (Turkish)
  • Paphos (English), Pafos (Greek Cypriot) and Baf (Turkish) and finally…
  • Famagusta (English), Ammochostos (Greek Cypriot) and Gazimagusa (Turkish).

It’s taken us a while to realise that when locals mention Limassol in conversation but we see it on the map as Lemesos (or vice versa), it’s actually the same place! But the Greek Cypriots, particularly one elderly man serving us at our favourite restaurant, preferred to keep calling his capital city Lefkosia NOT Nicosia.

So back at Lefkosia/Nicosia/Lefkosa. It’s the capital city of Cyprus and the only capital city that remains divided in the 21st Century. We had a wonderful day exploring beyond Greek Cypriot Lefkosia and witnessed many of the differences between the southern Greek Cypriot side and the northern Turkish occupied side of Ledra Street as well as further a field.

If you’d like to read about our experience of crossing the pedestrian border at Ledra Street and then driving our hire car over the border at Metehan Kermia then please read it all here in my blog titled Day 244 | Three: Cruising in Cyprus to Lefkosia & Beyond | 19 August 2017.

All we need at the pedestrian border crossing is ourselves, our passports and some Turkish Lira if we want to buy anything on the other side (actually we can still use the Euro but it’s a little more expensive than using local currency of course). And to get our car over to northern Cyprus we need all of the above plus some extra car insurance to use our southern Cypriot car in the northern part of Cyprus. It’s all a bit crazy, but that’s what happens when you’re traveling across a divided island country when it’s regarded by the international community as being occupied.

Today marks a special day as we celebrate 8 months of traveling thus far! And what could be more special than visiting the only divided capital city in the world in the 21st Century – Nicosia or more how the Greek Cypriots prefer to call their capital, Lefkosia.

Here are my personal thoughts about reaching the 8-month milestone mark:

  • First of all just wow, yay, yippee!
  • Then holy crap it’s 8 months!
  • And then we’re all still talking to each other!
  • To then thinking only 4 months to go…

And this is where we’re all at on the travel spectrum:

  • Steve – I could keep going…
  • Lisa – I want to keep going.
  • Charlie – I’m going back to study Year 12 with my friends!
  • Ash – I’m going home, don’t you guys miss home?
  • Billie – It’s been great, but I’m not doing this again with you guys.
  • Dacey – It’s been fun! Can I make more slime now? (now that’s another story to be told – the amount of slime that has been made on this traveling journey!)

Sunday

We’re up relatively early. Well considering we have a tribe of always-tired-in-the-morning-teens that love sleeping in FOREVER on weekends, it is considered early. There’s no gym this morning as it’s closed on Sundays which may be why Billie seems rather grumpy. Instead we’re getting ourselves ready for a day out exploring in the hire car. Today will be our fourth road trip while we’ve been living in Cyprus and we’re heading westward to the Greek mythological city of Paphos.

But before we depart we cook up a hearty breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, roasted tomato on sourdough toast at the apartment. Billie enjoys her usual Weetabix (the British brand name and variety) and I stop off at the local café to grab a takeaway latte for the road trip. On the way to the cafe, the girls spot a man walking a monkey on a lead down the promenade. Say what? I missed it. So we go around the block again and back onto the main road to see if it’s true – and it is. We see a man walking a small monkey on a lead! All I can think is oh poor thing. Seeing the monkey out of the passing car morning reminds me of the monkeys we saw dressed up and in chains in Marrakech Square, Morocco and then once they’ve made their money kept in a crate box.

We veer off the smooth, cruising motorway for the more scenic old coastal road. It’s a delight for the eyes of rugged cliffs and an immense, almost unending, blue sea. And not far off in the distance we see the sprawling township of Paphos. But before Paphos, from a loose stoned viewing platform off the old coastal road, is a group of sea stacked rocks that jut out from the calm sea off the coast. This is the place of Aphrodite’s birth.

If you’d like to read more about our road trip in Paphos please go to post titled Day 245 | Four: Cruising in Cyprus to Paphos | 20 August 2017.

If I was to rate our final road trip as a family, it would unfortunately rate low. The girls were not interested in seeing anything on Greek Mythology or underground tombs at the Tomb of the Kings. Charlie is happy to participate, but the other three are quite the strength of the unwilling. It is to go down as one of those days. Looking forward to it being over with thank you very much…

The car trip home is a sullen one. Ash and Dacey are actually crying in the car. They were crying when we returned to the car from exploring the Tomb of the Kings. Don’t worry nothing terrible happened. Once we worked out why they were crying, I had to walk away from the car taking practising my deep, and hopefully centring, breathing techniques I’ve started to employ in situations like these.

Are you ready? Listen to it people – they are crying over memories. And they were egging each other on with more memories and there’s more welling-in-the-eyes-and-streaming-down-the-cheeks tears. And it did not stop for quite some time. All I can say is that it seems to be a reaction to traveling the world. Allergies maybe? That is I think these two have had an emotional build up of home sickness and not wanting to see the historical sites which has resulted in a build up of angst which has resulted in two very over emotional girls who are discovering that a good cry can sometimes make all the difference.

I check in with them on the drive home. I twist my body around to face them in the back, and they’re still “releasing” the memories. Steve is driving trying to zone out, but looks my way every so often with that look on his face – what the hell is going on here? The crying girls tell me they feel better afterwards which is lovely to hear, to have an emotional release and cleanse for them in the car while we’re all trapped inside it listening to them weep, but it leaves Steve and me wondering what the hell we’re actually doing here.

Are we jinxed? It must be Friday the 13th or something.

Monday

We get serious about completing a whole lot of school work for the week today and tomorrow so they can have the rest of the week off school while we travel to and stay in Bangkok for three nights.

Charlie’s subject selection for Year 12 is due so we email her previous Principals and Year 12 coordinators and fill out a form to manually add her subjects and enrolment for 2018. I can’t believe she will be attending her final year of high school. Ash is still not know where she’s going in 2018. She sent an email to her former high school but due to her being outside the zone for that school she can’t enrol if she’s not in the sport academy (which she isn’t). Dacey and Billie are happy to go to Gisborne Secondary College along with Charlie. So we’ll see how all that plays out.

Today we also signed a Vietnamese contract for the rental house we’ll be staying in Hoi’An. I have found a great place for US$550 per month. We have been paying between A$2,000-$2,400 per month for Airbnb accomodation units in Europe. So this is a lovely change. It’s also a house and has three bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, security, and it’s double storey and located 10-minutes bicycle ride from the old town of Hoi’An (the very touristy area) and 10-minutes bicycle ride from Mia* who lives in An Bang in Hoi’An. I found the landlord who was advertising renting the house on a Hoi’An Expats Facebook group (there are many of them).

*Mia is an Australian living in Hoi’An who is a teacher and offers tutoring to students in the area. Aha! I’ve been chatting with her extensively on Messenger as she has been able to give me loads of advice on all things Hoi’An as well as opportunities for the kids to learn under her direction. There are a few ideas sprouting out of this. It’s been lovely getting to know Mia online as well as a few other people I have been able to contact before we arrive into another new and unfamiliar country. Although we have previously visited Vietnam twice before, including Hoi’An we have never lived in the town long term. It’s a very different proposition to visiting for a couple of days or a week and then heading off. I think the community aspect in Hoi’An is going to be great! Fingers crossed.

We take a stroll after dinner to the promenade and enjoy dessert and a drink. Me Baileys; Steve Scotch and coke. The dessert is a traditional Kataifi and it’s so very delicious. Luckily I have just discovered this sweetness on the last few days of living here in Cyprus.

Tuesday

School work is getting complete for our rest of the week off. Yay!

And it’s our final day to go to the gym, for a swim, do any shopping, and further enjoy the Greek Cypriot food. We choose to go to our favourite local restaurant just around the corner from our apartment and order halloumi, pork and chicken pitas. Afterwards it’s a walk down the main promenade for some ice-cream for the kids and a delicious Baklava (only because they were out of the traditional Kataifi) to share for me and Steve at our other favourite restaurant on the promenade Portokali.

The girls get out and take a ride on an electric scooter-type bike. They’re 8 euros each for 1 hour so it was a bit of fun for the final night in Larnaka. We watched them scoot up and down the promenade having fun together on the balmy night. This year away has certainly brought all the girls closer together as friends which is lovely to see.

And even though Steve and I are back sleeping out in the lounge room on the fold out bed, I had the best sleep I’ve had in a long time. Must have been the Baileys!

Wednesday

It’s goodbye to Cyprus. Which means packing up EVERYTHING!

Billie is absolutely obsessed with going to gym here. She sets her alarm for 8am and has the whole morning worked out so she can fit everything in on departure day. She wakes Steve and they both walk to gym and squeeze in a gym session. Afterwards I meet Steve at the little Makenzy beach, after rousing the three sleeping beauties, for our last dip in the Mediterranean Sea together. It’s so clear, more than ever, and we see fish swimming amongst our legs. The sea water is so still it’s like a luxurious bath. We are the only ones at this small beach and we float about in the water watching the planes coming into land at the international airport.

I’m going to miss this.

The next couple of hours are finishing up the packing. I have become quite the expert international minimalist packer and now with the accumulation of way many suitcases, I can share the load of heavy school text books and photocopied workbooks more evenly. We no longer have the initial luggage weight dramas we did at the start of our trip which makes the whole process of checking in less stressful. But the style now is very unbackpackerish. Oh well if it works stick with it.

It’s also time to clean the Airbnb apartment – empty the fridge, do a quick wipe down of benches, and try and dry the gym clothes from this morning’s session. I strip the beds and make a pile near the washing machine, and start sweeping the rooms. Do you know how much hair we shed in this household? I’m not sure if I notice it a whole lot more while traveling due to close quarter living arrangements and smaller living spaces, but there is literally long strands of hair from all of us, except Steve of course, lying on the floor, attaching themselves to pillow cases and bed linen, intertwining in the bristles of the hair brush and the accumulation of mats of long hair down the drain in the bath tub. We have been malting constantly on this trip! And there is no vacuum cleaner here, like many of the Airbnbs we’ve stayed at.

Steve’s got two taxi’s to Larnaca International Airport organised for a 12:15pm pick up outside our apartment block. They cost 20 euros combined. Two drivers and two taxis arrive on time. They’re a BMW and Mercedes Benz – the same driver in the BMW that took Charlie and Steve to the General Hospital and back. We ask them why they use luxury cars for taxis and the owner responds, “they’re better quality so they last longer and they look the part so we attract more people with money.”

Not that we have money to splash around on luxury brand name cars used as taxis in Cyprus, but there are no alternatives here. It’s a stark contrast to loud motor tuk tuks in Buldana, rural India and run down petit blue taxis in Berrechid, Morocco. But hey that’s what they have here in Cyprus so that’s we use. It was a lovely drive. I felt a little bit like how the Paris Hiltons or Kim Kardashians of the world must feel, but for just a brief moment in time!

We depart on our Ukraine flight to Kiev at 2:40pm from Laranca International Airport for a 2-hour stop over there, and then onto Bangkok with the same airline where we will arrive tomorrow morning for a three-night stay in Bangkok which we are all very much looking forward to.

Goodbye Larnaka, Cyprus we have had an amazing experience exploring all over your lands and in your cities. Thank you we will never forget you.

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