Monday 26 September 2011

The Year Round Island - Part 2


So, Cyprus.

I’ve been here nearly 2 months now, and I’m still enjoying it (apart from the time away from home that is – that still sucks).  The tag line of “The Year Round Island” seems to be holding true.  We’re now close to the end of September and the temperature is holding steady at around 30C, with clear blue skies.  There may be one or two fluffy white bits around some days, but generally speaking it’s as clear and summery today as it was when I arrived here.  The sea is a little cooler perhaps, and a little more choppy, but still nothing like the English Channel or the Baltic.  And certainly not remotely like the pounding surf at Maracas Beach in Trinidad this time last year.

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I’ve been out and about a bit.

One day we had to go to Nicosia for a breakfast presentation about some new work stuff.  It’s about 75km from Limassol. So we were picked up from the hotel at 7 by taxi, for an 8 a.m. start in Nicosia.  The drive was pretty uneventful, along the highway towards Larnaca (the airport route) in light traffic, then a turn off onto another highway north across the hilly spine of the country to Nicosia.  I was mildly confused as all the road signs were for Lefkosia, which turned out to be the local name for the place.  Traffic was again light, until the last 15km or so, when we hit road works and everything of course was bottled up and slowed to a crawl.  We were late for the meeting – didn’t go down too well with certain people, but hey – shit happens.  The drive back was better, the road works only affected the Nicosia bound carriageway so the road out was clear.  I didn’t see much of Nicosia: the meeting was at the Hilton Hotel, which is not in the centre of town and just off the highway, flanked by garages and furniture warehouses and shops and all the usual outer suburb buildings and rubbish you would expect.  

Nicosia is of course the capital, and the border with Turkish occupied Northern Cyprus runs through it somewhere, but I didn’t get to see that at all, nor the seat of Government or any of the other historical places around.  No opinion formed about it at all, I’m afraid – that’s maybe for another day.

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Mainly I’ve been beach hunting on my weekends here.   I hope to bring the family down for a few days before I finish the gig, and of course the kids love a good beach.  They’re used to sandy ones – I think all the beaches they’ve ever been to in their short sweet lives have been like that, whether in Crete, Portugal, Spain, Trinidad or Poland.  They love, like all kids, digging holes, or building sandcastles with little canals into the surf to flood the moat, or burying the old man…..the usual stuff.  The trouble is, southern Cyprus seems to be devoid of sandy beaches.  The beach here in Limassol is ok, narrow and sandy with umbrellas and sun-beds (for which I’m sure you’re charged an extortionate fee), but it’s a dirty grey looking sand, not the expected Mediterranean golden or white, and besides the bay is always full of freight ships and tankers waiting to get into the harbour to load or unload, which spoils the view somewhat.  So I’ve hired cars, consulted the oracle that is Google and tried to find a better alternative within a drivable distance.

Car hire is reasonably priced here.  Both times I’ve paid about EUR50 per day all inclusive (which is one days’ per diem from my company for being here, so effectively it’s free if I’m careful the rest of the time) and the cars have been upgraded at no cost.  The first weekend I had a Toyota Yaris automatic that was comfortable enough and got me around, but was dreadfully underpowered and had an appalling stereo.  Then this weekend I got a Fiesta, clearly a newer vehicle than the Yaris, with a five speed manual box that made it a very nippy little motor, much better and more fun to drive, and the stereo was excellent.  I put it down to the different hire company – the Yaris was from a local firm that was cheap and cheerful whilst the Fiesta was from Hertz, so a little more pricy but better quality.  As with everything, you get what you pay for.

I’ve had mixed results, really. On the first Saturday, I drove around half an hour westward, where there were recommended beaches at a place called Avdimou and, close by, an unnamed beach identified by a nearby restaurant.   Avdimou was actually ok, a long stretch of sand and shingle with a hotel (and sun beds for hire) in the middle.  To the westerly end of it there were a number of little shelters lying back in the bushes flanking the beach, evidently built and used by locals on the weekend for barbecues and so on, and at the far end an outcropping of white chalky rock similar to that at Governer’s Beach to the east of Limassol (as I described in my post The Year Round Island last month).  But there were also a lot of pebbles and larger stones scattered about along its length and in many places forming a dividing line between the shingle upper beach and the sandier surf line.  To the eastern end, it became stonier still, until you pass around the headland under high cliffs, where it becomes a succession of small coves, some only a few yards across and generally more sandy than the main beach, divided by a tumbled mass of rocks and cliff fallings that in places are impassable without wading knee deep in the sea.  They were nice enough and offered some privacy but with kids and the usual amount of baggage you need to carry, not really very practical.

The unnamed beach close to the restaurant was in a fact a succession of small coves, again backed up to low cliffs, with beautifully clear and calm water for swimming, but every one was stony, hardly any sand at all.  You could (and in fact I did) have a lovely afternoon there, sunbathing and swimming and relaxing with a book, and seeing hardly another soul, but again – for kids’ play they’re far from ideal.

The next day I drove a little further along the coast to a place called Pissouri Bay, another recommended beach.  It’s another long stretch of sand, pebble and shingle, with a good smattering of beds and brollies in the central part, below the car park and restaurants.   There is also a good watersports area where you can hire Hobie Kat sailing boats, jet bikes, canoes and so on, or book a ride on the banana boat inflatable, or try a bit of kite surfing.  Beyond that area, the western end of the bay curves round along the foot of steep sandstone cliffs, and becomes little more than a rock ledge for the last 100 yards or so.  I’m told you can wade around the headland in calm waters, with the sea just above knee height, to another selection of little coves but I didn’t bother.   (There is also a route along a narrow path along the side of the cliff that takes you to the same place; I gave it a try but about two-thirds of the way up a rock fall had taken about half the path with it, leaving a narrow strip about a foot wide for perhaps two strides.  You could probably continue with care, but not feeling suicidal I gave it a miss too.)

The eastern end of the beach was much better.  At its furthest extent, the big stones and pebbles give way to a finer shingle and sand, and at the base of the cliffs is a selection of rock outcrops that give a certain amount of privacy.  Beyond it, over another pile of rocks (or a knee deep wade of maybe ten yards) is another small, stony cove, and thereafter a succession of similar areas.  I was surprised to find that everyone at this end of the beach (three or four couples and as many individuals) was naked – I had read that naturism is very much frowned upon in Cyprus, apparently illegal and subject to spot fines of EUR200.  But hey ho – when in Rome and all that stuff…..

It was a good day.  Plenty of sun, plenty of swimming in warm, crystal clear water, read my book.  
                                                                         
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This past weekend, the lady from Hertz, when she delivered the car, recommended a drive beyond Pissouri to Aphrodite’s Birthplace.  Now whether you believe in Greek mythology or not is neither here nor there, the drive itself makes the trip worthwhile, she said, it’s the most beautiful place in Cyprus.  So Saturday, after another roasting at Pissouri beach, I decided to give it a go. 

The drive was indeed spectacular, and reminded me very much of the mountainous road from Chania to Elafonisi in Crete – still my all-time favourite drive.  The journey takes you up a winding and narrow road through Pissouri village itself (maybe three kilometers from the beach), then picks up a slightly better road signposted to Paphos.  It’s still twisting and undulating around what is now a beautiful range of sharp sided hill crests, separated by steep, sometimes sheer sided and evidently uninhabited valleys.  It runs like this for perhaps 15km, then you swing around a right hand bend, up a sharp incline and straight ahead of you, above the road that continues to twist and turn before you, is your destination.  It’s basically a huge rock, perhaps 80 feet tall, with a head-high tunnel running through it, and half a dozen smaller rocks scattered like children at its feet, all surrounded by the broad crescent of the beach and a clear blue sea.  That first sight of it is indeed spellbinding. 

There is a car park across the road that offers a snack bar, a narrow tunnel under the road to the beach, and if you’re so inclined (and prepared to pay EUR5) a shower.  The beach itself is like Brighton or Eastbourne or Pevensey – indeed any number of Sussex beaches – that is to say stony beyond belief, hardly a grain of sand to be found anywhere.  I got there late in the day, so there were few people there and most of them were packing up to leave.

It is a beautiful place to be sure, and the drive was fun, but I seriously question whether it really is the best place in all Cyprus!

Yesterday (that’s Sunday), I drove back to Governer’s  Beach, the scene of my first bus expedition last month.  I’d been recommended another little cove along to the west, towards Limassol, as being nice and sandy.  It was a bit of a mission: basically the proper road ends suddenly and you’re pitched onto what amounts to a dirt track along the low cliff tops.  In a Range Rover or something I’m sure it would be fine, but for the Fiesta it was far from ideal.  Most of it I had to take very slowly indeed, in first gear, to avoid wrecking the car – I could have walked it faster.  I pulled over a couple of times, to stretch my legs and try to spot this mysterious beach, but there was no sign.  In one stony cove a middle aged couple were obviously making out, on the next point over, on one of the big white rock outcrops, there was what I assume was a glamour photo-shoot going on  – the guy had a camera on a tripod, another guy was holding a bloody great mirror (as if there wasn’t enough sun already!), there were a couple of, I presume, make-up artists or something (since they were female) , and in the middle of this group, lying down and pretty much obscured by everyone else, the model.  I drove on, for maybe an hour, but could find no trace of this mythical sandy beach.  By this time I was getting seriously concerned about my shock absorbers and tyres, so I gave it up as a bad job, and headed carefully back to the main road. 

So I finished the weekend as I had started it, back at Pissouri – still the best beach I’ve found here.  On the way there I drove through a brief and violent thunderstorm (as I passed Limassol on the highway in fact) – the second in successive days, as it had rained heavily Saturday afternoon in Limassol (although I, 35km west on the beach at Pissouri, saw not a cloud).  I’m told it’s the first rainfall since May.  Today it’s back to normal – 31C and clear blue skies.

Anyway, all in all, Cyprus is a bit disappointing, at least as far as sandy beaches are concerned.  There are some at Ayia Napa, the party town the other side of Larnaca (so that would be around 120km from Limassol) and apparently more on the north side of the island, in the Turkish zone where car insurance bought in the Greek section is not valid.  But in this part of the island, the south westerly corner, nothing to speak of.  So Pissouri it is then….

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Driving habits are different here to Poland.  People seem much more polite and, interestingly, take note of the speed limits.  With the comparative lack of traffic on the roads, even at weekends, and the fact that everything is very English, it’s actually been a pleasure pottering around in my rental cars.  The only slightly nerve wracking time was on my first trip back from Pissouri.  I managed to miss my (very badly signposted) entrance to the highway and had to drive maybe 5km out of my way to get back on the right road.  I noticed, absently, that a bright yellow Seat that had followed me all the way from the car park at the beach was still behind me, and assumed once we were on the highway he would overtake me and be gone – it was a local car not a hire (the number plates are a different colour) so I figured he wouldn’t be lost.  But he stayed right on my tail all the way along.  I wasn’t rushing at all, it was a lovely evening and the highway from Pissouri to Limassol is a very scenic drive, and the guy had plenty of time and space to go if he wanted to.  At one point he pulled alongside me, and just looked across at me – obviously a local, dark glasses, black gelled hair.  I slowed more to let him pass.  He pulled back behind me and settled in my wake.  I had no clue what was going on.

Every time I sped up, so did he.  I slowed down and he was nearly in my boot.  All the way to Limassol.  I tried to dodge him by a bit of frankly illegal overtaking approaching some road works and a contra-flow system – the move he pulled to keep pace was even less legal and more dangerous than mine.  I was now getting quite worried.  I took the wrong exit from the highway, and got a bit lost going into the town centre, and he was right with me.  I went through an amber light at one junction, he went through a red.  Eventually, I got back to my hotel, pulled into the drive and parked up.  He pulled up beside me.  Right, I thought, if you want a row……  I got out of my car and glared at him as he opened his passenger window.

“What the fuck is your problem, pal?” I said angrily.

“Are you lost?” he said.  “I followed you all the way from Pissouri in case you needed help….  You were driving so slowly, looking around everywhere.”

I felt quite embarrassed……  I explained I was a tourist, had missed my turning, and was just enjoying the scenery, not a problem.  He smiled, and waved his hand.

“Well, enjoy your stay,” he said cheerily, and drove off.

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Over the past few weeks there has been a wine festival here.   Across from the hotel and office there is a small but very pretty park, that also houses an open-air theatre.   Every year, apparently for the past 50, there has been a local wine festival held there.  You pay your EUR3 admittance, spend another couple of euros buying a commemorative wine glass (or tumbler, the choice is yours), and are then free to wander around and sample at no cost all the wines on offer.  As an inexpensive way to get pissed it doesn’t really work, because each sample you take is little more than a mouthful, but some of the wines are quite palatable – though as I’m not a big wine drinker I couldn’t honestly say whether they’re good or bad.  I just quite liked some of them.  There are stalls scattered around the park selling souvenirs, and also food stalls and temporary restaurants selling local dishes as well as the inevitable pizza and kebabs.  I paid EUR6 for a very good plate of local sausages (very savoury) with fries and about three slices of pitta bread and salad.    My mate, who hasn’t the biggest appetite in the world, ordered chicken salad for about the same price, and when it was delivered had a whole barbecued chicken, about half an allotments’ worth of fresh green salad and tomatoes, and half a cottage loaf.  Good stuff.

There has been the odd concert held there too during the festival, but I never attended any of them.  One was a rock concert by some local band, very 80s big hair and shoulder pads music, early Bon Jovi sort of stuff, but by the screams and applause at the end of every guitar and drum solo soaked number they are clearly very popular.  I could hear it all very clearly from my hotel room 200 yards away.  This past weekend was the closing concert, choral music, but I’m in a different room now so didn’t really hear that one – shame, it might have been quite nice.

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