It wasn't a nice day, and the weather forecast for the next three days was mediocre. Not beach days. We set out for a walk, but it wasn't warm, and we hadn't brought the right clothes for a serious walk. We'd already spoken with the local car hire people, so it was obvious what to do next.
With very little planning, we cruised down the coast. This map is a summary of where we went, although we took the coastal route rather than the main spinal route
Our first stop was a nearby beach, known in English as Trinity Beach. Practically deserted because of the weather. I imagine it being teeming on lovely days. In the distance we could see Famagusta.
We retraced the route we had walked earlier in the week. When we walked, I was disinclined to take photos. As we sped along at a modest 40 kmph I spotted many opportunities to take photos that would, somehow, capture the essence of that corner of Cyprus. It's an eternal problem for a photographer. I'm sure that if I had asked Jimmy to stop, he would have, but I didn't.
We arrived in Pernera. Pernera is not the busiest town in Cyprus, even in Paralimni Municipality, but it was as a shock after several days in Kapparis, a residential area with a small shopping parade either side of the main road. Quite alien to see in-yer-face commercialism, the Neon signs stressing the Englishness of the offer - even though several of the pubs and restaurants in Kapparis are English and make sure you know that.
We strolled for a while on the seafront, the weather fine, bright and dry, but not warm. I saw some young women who, I suspect, had tumbled out of bed, looked out the window, seen it was bright and headed straight for the beach for sunning or swimming. They would have been on their own!
The seafront was well tended and neat, with intense planting of flowers, pleasant if a little uninspired. In Spain and Greece, and now I was seeing this in Cyprus, local authorities invest in their seafronts and beaches, understanding that a welcome to tourists boosts the local retail economy and jobs (while acknowledging that seasonality presents its own problems).
Back where we were staying, we had free unfettered access to sun-loungers and umbrellas in April. In May we had to pay. But in England, even on exceptionally hot days we have been told: you can't hire deckchairs after 3pm. You can't hire deckchairs on weekdays. Many English beaches are virtually impossible to access in a wheelchair or with a buggy, and lack showers or taps, changing rooms, children's play areas or facilities for light refreshments.
We took brunch in a café whose name I now forget. Spotlessly clean - as was everywhere we went in Cyprus (this place was sparkling!), nice friendly atmosphere of locals (Brits) who didn't resent our presence as visitors, and decent food - I had a salmon burger.
Bypassing Protaras, we headed down the coast, but dark clouds and droplets of drizzle made us worry we'd be caught in a shower. We saw a couple in late middle age, who had hired a quad bike, without a roof or walls. We saw them several times during the day, they obviously had the same idea as us to sight see, but they looked bloody miserable, open to the elements and buffeted by the wind.
From there we went to Ayia Napa but didn't stay long, just enough for a stroll round the Marina. Ayia Napa's a busy town and known for its party atmosphere. Our taxi driver said they know which blocks to dread pick ups from, larey parties, often single sex, of young people. That having been said, talking to people where we were staying, there are decent restaurants in the town, if you know where to look. It seemed a poor relative of Benidorm. Much maligned, but popular for a reason. Densely populated, so not using much land, and easy to have a week or two's holiday without a car. (I presume there are ferries to Cyprus but all holiday I didn't see one car whose number plates weren't Cypriot).
It took me ages to figure out what was wrong with this second picture, then I remembered the definition of 'submarine'
From Ayia Napa we escaped to the hills, specifically Cape Greco, a headland and National Park outside the town. Where we first parked, in rocky, steep scrubland, there were strict signs forbidding any photography. I'd probably get away with it, but the hassle of the penalty for being caught, however remote, wasn't worth it. We were close to radio masts - this photo was taken later, from further away - which reminded me of the strategic importance of Cyprus to Britain, Europe and NATO, so close to Syria and the Middle East.
Further down the road is a car park by a chapel; an ice cream van was also parked up. A nice opportunity to stroll, enjoy the view, and take photos. I was realising I have a similar problem with Cyprus that I do with Greece*. I have previously been to three different Greek islands and I simply don't like the scenery. I've never stopped and caught my breath and wondered at the beauty of it. It's down to personal taste and conditioning/familiarity, but I do so prefer the scenery in parts of Northern and Central Europe I have visited.
We attracted a plague of feral cats. I'm not usually bothered by them - I prefer not to get too close or pet them, but see them as like pigeons in England. But these creeped me out. Half a dozen tiny kittens scurrying around and a couple closely following me. I took a step and, just in time, realised my foot was about to come down on one of them. I really didn't want inadvertently to kill one of them, so I had a sort of anxiety attack. Jimmy decided they were my 'pets', and, later in the week, when we saw feral cats foraging in paladins, he looked at me reproachfully and told me I was a monster, not looking after my pet cats properly and forcing them to hunt through waste bins for food.
The mother cat looked listless and disinterested. She was alive but didn't move while we were there. Presumably other mammals die of postnatal sepsis, like humans who lack(ed) modern Western hygiene and medicine. Some people would try to rescue her out of sentimentality but I try to allow wild animals to be, and to let Nature take its course.
From Ayia Napa we went to Deryneia, to see the Ghost City of Famagusta. Again, no photography allowed at ground level. It was a dreary day, and soon to rain, so the view was not as clear as it might have been. Even so, it was strange to see. We were benignly held hostage at the cultural centre - no cup of tea unless you watch the video. "Very interesting" I said politely to the woman, after a twenty minute propaganda film.
I can't imagine much worse than being forced to flee your home, taking only the clothes you're wearing. People who can't go home are sorrowful, even when it was their choice to leave. That story plays out yet again as it has throughout the 20th Century and time immemorial.
It's rude to express an opinion about other people's territorial and ethnic disputes, unless you have reasonably informed yourself. It's stupid to use Wikipedia to get the 'facts', unless you apply a healthy dose of scepticism. However, there is a difference between the Greek Cypriot propaganda which implies that 'suddenly out of the blue without provocation the Turkish Army invaded and oppressed Greek Cypriots' and a narrative of events that causes a Wikipedia page Cypriot intercommunal violence. All I can conclude is that many ordinary people have suffered while the minority of power hungry/sociopathic/nationalistic agitators jostle for advantage.
*NB I stress that Cyprus is a sovereign state that's a member of the UN in its own right and is not part of Greece. However, the main language is Greek, the dominant religion is Greek Orthodox, and the culture - including food - is similar to Greece. I found the scenery (and feral cats) to be similar to what I experienced on Kos three years ago. Irish Times article: Cyprus, a small country heavily reliant on Greece, is facing its own fragile recovery
