To see the photos from our Christmas in Cyprus, follow this link:
Cyprus 2012
There are captions for the photos, but they don't show up in the slideshow. However, if you look at them one by one you can see the captions. Annoying, but I didn't see any settings that would let me change that.
Also, participate in the poll to the side!!
xoxo- Christine
Christmas in Cyprus by Randall D. Ball
It was
a trade-off. Flying at night meant that
Anastasia and Talula could sleep most of the way, certainly a blessing when
traveling with young children. However,
our flight from Abu Dhabi to Larnaca, Cyprus, arrived at 3:30 in the
morning. An hour later, we were
packed—very packed—into the rental car, the girls were sleeping again in the
backseat, and Christine and I had quite a wait before our evening’s hotel would
allow us to check in. Fortunately, the
hotel in Agia Napa provided us with breakfast while housekeeping hurriedly
prepared a room for an early check-in.
First,
however, we had to find the hotel. The
GPS was virtually useless in Cyprus, and what little information I had on the
hotel suggested it was located near Nissi Beach in Agia Napa on the
Mediterranean island’s eastern coast.
One man’s directions led us around the old town, through narrow streets
of red brick that meandered around various closed-for-the-season nightclubs and
cafes. A second person’s directions
proved more successful, although “Turn left at the Toga Toga Strip Club” does
sound off warning bells in my head. The
hotel was nice, though—a “holiday village” of beach villas spaced around
several pools. Too bad it was winter. But winter also meant that we often had the
tourist sites all to ourselves.
We
spent several days in Agia Napa, about the only time we saw rain, or really
felt all that cold. We walked along the
waterfront by our hotel between showers; the girls loved climbing on the rocks, and
they both became enthralled—obsessed, actually—with snails. Talula would pick up a snail and ask, “Is it
home?” If not, the shell would go into
her pocket. Besides all the fascinating
snails, the other fauna that we frequently encountered were cats. There are many cats—mostly friendly,
relatively tame—in Cyprus, and the girls made it a point to pet every feline on
the island.
We also
explored Cape Gkreko, a beautiful headland with limestone cliffs overlooking
the sea on the easternmost tip of the country, and the Monastery of Agia Napa,
an historic structure from the 1500s. On
the other side of Nissi Beach, on a particularly windy and wet day, we dared to
venture out to Agia Thekla, a tiny chapel at the top of a small rise on the
coast. The chapel itself is not as
interesting as what lies at the base of the hill—a much older church in a rock
cave. This grotto is where the girls
started talking about dragons. Dragons
and bears.
One
rainy day, we visited the aquarium in Paralimni, north of Agia Napa. Of course, Anastasia and Talula liked the
fish (although, admittedly, it seemed that much of the marine life could have
been found for free at a decent pet store), the crocodiles, and the penguins,
but the highlight was the very active octopus.
With his tentacles stretching out and wrapping around everything in his
tank, the creature glided round and round, changing colors as he moved. We could have watched him all day, but Talula
was a bit frightened of him.
Our
next stop was the quaint hillside village of Tochni, where we stayed—as the
only visitors—at a private guest house.
It was a picturesque scene:
narrow roads and paths winding down to the valley, a church at the
bottom and in the middle of town, the stone houses with their little gardens
and terraces. And for Anastasia and
Talula, plenty of cats and snails. As
pleasant as the scenery was, it would be the people, however, who would make
Tochni my favorite place in Cyprus. They
were very friendly, warm and welcoming, and since it was the off-season, we
were almost the only tourists in town.
Everyone knew us by the second day.
At a coffee shop one night where we ate dinner, the owner’s wife
encouraged Anastasia to eat by playing the old airplane game: pretending the spoon was an airplane and
feeding Anastasia herself. The food in
the village was very good: home-cooked
“comfort” dishes, served by amiable waitresses and surrounded by gregarious
locals.
We made
a few day trips from Tochni: to the
capital Nicosia (the final day of rain before the island brightened and the sun
gently warmed us), to the Neolithic settlement in Choirokoitia, and to the
scenic monastery of Agios Georgios Alamanos.
One bright, sunny afternoon, we enjoyed delicious, fresh local fish at a
restaurant on the coast between Larnaca and Limassol while the girls jumped on
a trampoline next to us. Late one
afternoon on another day, we took a side trip into the mountains, but the
winding road and constant switchbacks gave Christine a nasty headache. That evening, Christmas Eve, I took the girls
out for a village stroll to give Christine a brief respite. Above the church, on the hillside, was a
hulking, dark tree, and a few lights shone through it, almost like glowing
orange eyes. I convinced Anastasia and
Talula that it was a dragon, much to their excitement. Dragon talk continued for the next few
days. They also played with real
animals: namely, more snails and cats.
Christmas
Day was a busy one. We awoke early to
the bells of the church in our little village of Tochni, and—because it was
Christmas and because it sounded interesting and because several locals had
invited us—we went to services at that Greek Orthodox church. Locals told us that people start arriving at
6:30 in the morning, but that actual services didn’t start until around 8:00
and would last until about 10:00. The
old folks, we were told, arrived early to get a seat. We arrived around 7:15, and there was already
something happening. Two men took turns
reciting and chanting—in Greek, of course, and would do so for the next three
hours as more and more people arrived, kissed wooden pictures of Christ and
Mary, and made the sign of the cross.
Occasionally, the Orthodox priest would come out from behind the
Iconostasis and chant something while swinging his incense around. It felt much more like a Catholic mass, of
course, than a Protestant service. Most
of the congregation wore black (the girls stood out a bit with their matching
red Christmas dresses, but that was okay;
we were welcomed, and the coffee shop woman from the previous night’s
dinner sat next to me and chatted, occasionally holding one of the girls). Some people wore noteworthy outfits, however,
like short, tight black leather skirts or dark, leopard-print dresses. One older woman arrived sporting huge 80s
hair with blonde highlights; then her
two daughters walked in behind her, showing off the same humorous hair style. It made for some entertaining people
watching, even if we couldn’t understand a word of the liturgy (except for
“Christos”).
After
the service (we left about fifteen minutes early, just missing Eucharist), we
said goodbye to Tochni and drove around, rather than through, Limassol to the
Akrotiri Peninsula, home of many strawberry fields, a salt lake with
flamingoes, and—appropriate on Christmas Day—the monastery of St. Nicholas of
the Cats. Apparently, Constantine’s
mother visited Cyprus and shipped the cats to the island to deal with all the
snakes. Monks fed the cats, and now
Cyprus has more than its fair share of feline companions. I never saw any snakes either.
We
found one roadside strawberry vendor open on Christmas, so we made our purchase
and then sought out a pleasant spot for our “strawberry picnic,” as we told
Talula, who especially loves fruit. Even
now when she sees a strawberry, she calls it a “picnic.” We found the ideal spot—right on the beach
near Kourion—for our Christmas Day strawberry beach picnic party. After soaking in the warmth of the sun and
enjoying the strawberries, we worked our way up the coast to Petra tou Romiou,
three large limestone rocks just off the coast that are supposedly the
birthplace of the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite. Then we drove onward to the west coast resort
city of Pafos. As I said, Christmas was
a busy day.
Our
hotel was just a block from the waterfront, where we walked along the shoreline
to the marina. The weather was warm,
perfect for dining outside along the harbor at one of the many seafood
restaurants there. We had our fill of
calamari, octopus, prawns, fish, olives, halloumi cheese, pork and chicken
kebabs, pita bread, Greek salad, hummus, and oranges—juicy, fresh, local
oranges—for dessert. Talula really loved
those oranges; the girl could eat three
or four in one sitting. This was typical
culinary fare throughout Cyprus.
We
explored the medieval fort in the harbor, and we worked our way all around the
archaeological park of Kato Pafos, the Roman ruins of the old city and now a
UNESCO World Heritage Site. Highlights of
Kato Pafos were the House of Dionysos with its grand mosaics, the Roman Odeon
(a small theater where Anastasia had fun jumping from stone seat to seat—until
she had a bad fall, that is), and the archways of the ancient castle ruins of
Saranda Kolones. There was a lighthouse
nearby, which Anastasia pointed at excitedly and remarked, “Like Pete’s
Dragon!”
On the
way out of Pafos, we drove through the Diarizos Valley leading up to the
Troodos Mountains (we avoided much of the mountains, however, to spare anyone
car sickness). This green valley is
dotted with medieval villages, with sheep farms, and with unusual prickly
bushes mixed in with the many olive trees.
We stopped for a while to let the girls stretch their legs (and chase
each other with sticks) while we admired the valley with the little creek
(officially, the Diarizos River, but it was more of a creek) meandering
below. Then we drove to Palaipafos in
the small town of Kouklia, home of the Temple of Aphrodite but also site of a
much older (Bronze Age) civilization.
Kouklia is on a hilltop with a terrific view of the Mediterranean
Sea. We enjoyed lunch in the village,
where the restaurant owner, upon hearing that we were American, exclaimed,
“America makes two things I love…Harley-Davidson motorcycles and Marlboro
cigarettes!”
“And
both can kill you,” Christine said, but I don’t think he heard her.
From
Kouklia we drove a short way to ancient Kourion to check out yet more Roman
ruins. The girls loved it, however. They enjoy climbing on rocks and running
around. The Roman theater there is large
and impressive, although the way it’s situated, on a hill with the audience
facing the sea, I can imagine there was a bit of a distraction.
We
returned to Tochni for one night, and the next morning we relaxed on the
terrace of the guest house. Christine
and I read while the girls played with lemons from a tree in the
courtyard. They created a game called
“Lemon Ball” that was something of a disorganized mixture of volleyball and
soccer. When they were done, the whole
courtyard smelled like lemonade. They
must have had fun.
That
afternoon, we visited the camel park in Mazotos, where Anastasia and I rode a
camel (our guide was amused that we had come from Abu Dhabi to ride camels) and
Talula rode a pony. Then we fed the
animals (until a donkey bit Talula, that is) and saw ostriches, donkeys,
porcupines, a wallaby, and a few other critters. Then we drove onward to Larnaca, where I
started to catalog the girls’ injuries from our two-week holiday. Anastasia had a nasty bruise on her forehead
from where she fell while jumping down the stadium seats in Kato Pafos, plus
she had a cut on her hand where she fell down on some rocks in Palaipafos, and
she had random bruises from other various falls. Talula looked about ready to lose a
fingernail (from where her sister smashed her finger in a door a week ago),
plus the donkey bite (not really noticeable), a scratch on her foot from
something, and similar bruises to her sister’s, also from various falls. (In the morning, we’d have to add a few
insect bites to the list, since something fed on Talula and me during the
night).
The
next morning, our final dull day in Cyprus, we walked along another salt lake,
close to our hotel in Larnaca, where we encountered many more flamingoes. Christine asked Anastasia to count them
all; Anastasia stopped at sixteen. She was probably off by a few thousand. We also met several friendly locals who were
walking their dogs along the lake. It
made for a pleasant day, a satisfying conclusion to our trip before the
early-morning return flight to Abu Dhabi.
