GO CYPRUS:Committed sun avoider
FRANK McNALLYlearns how to love the heat by doing the tourist thing and getting out and about on the island when temperatures reach 40 degrees
THE GUIDEBOOKS on Cyprus differ about the question: “When to go?” Spring and autumn have their fans, in equal numbers. Early and late summer do too. But reading between the lines, I detect a certain consensus about when not to go – namely “the middle of August”
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Unfortunately fate decreed that, in our case, the middle of August was when it had to be. And so it was that, having avoided sun holidays all my life, I found myself lounging beside a pool in Paphos, trying to summon up the energy to lift a pina colada, while worrying if the factor-50 sun cream the kids had been lathered in an hour ago was still working, or if it was time for a new coat.
On the plus side, we missed the worst of the heatwave. Ten days earlier, Nicosia had hit 46 degrees: an all-time record. It was down to a cool 40 or so when we arrived. And Paphos, being on the island’s west coast, was a few degrees lower than that.
Against which, Paphos was also intensely humid. Sweating locals – “you never get used to it”, one man told me – spoke almost fondly about the arid heat of Nicosia. Whereas, on the terraces of restaurants in Paphos at night, condensation was such that, periodically, the waiters had to wipe the tables dry.
And it’s not just heat and humidity you have to contend with in August. In the Avanti Hotel and Holiday Village, where we stayed, the overseas tourists were joined by large numbers of Cypriots, who have one of their many bank holidays right in the middle of the month.
Consequently, the battle for the breakfast buffet was also at its most fierce. With many English people on site, there were severe tailbacks at the rotary toaster every morning. The bacon-and-sausage counter was no place for the faint-hearted either.
Georgios, the Avanti’s affable manager, was clearly pained that we had chosen this of all times to visit not just his facilities, but his beloved island. He would have preferred April, May, or October, when the Cypriot countryside is at its best, awash with wildflowers, and when hiking, cycling, and other outdoor activities are so much easier.
But despite the heat, and despite presiding over facilities from which a dedicated sun worshipper need not stir for an entire holiday, Georgios was nevertheless adamant that we should get out and see as much as possible. And as we discovered, this was a doubly good idea because next to staying in your apartment, driving an air-conditioned rental car was the best way to avoid the sun.
You don’t have to travel far in Cyprus to realise that, for a small island, it has a lot of scenery. You don’t have to travel far, full-stop.
A trip of barely half an hour from Paphos took us off the tourist track completely, through picturesque hill villages to the north coast and the pleasant towns of Polis and Latsi.
Not much further, to the east, brought us into the Troodos mountains: high enough to have skiing in the winter, and to have provided a summer capital for the old British regime. Thanks to the motorway, meanwhile, we went from the sweltering west to bone-dry Nicosia – the island’s political and geographic centre – in only 90 minutes.
THE COUNTRY'Scontrasts are not all natural, of course. Alongside the dramatic juxtapositions of coast and interior, valley and mountains, Cyprus also has two political systems – two civilisations, even – side by side. And although the partition of 1974 remains a tragedy for the country, it undoubtedly adds to the fascination for visitors.
For those of us used to the Irish Border, now largely invisible, the line that divides the two Cypruses is stark. On our first trip into the Turkish-controlled north, we spent an hour driving around in circles trying to find the checkpoint at Dometios – one of the six border crossings – because there didn’t seem to be any signposts to say where it was.
But once we’d found it, shown our passports, and paid the €20 for temporary car insurance (not valid, according to the document, for “racing, pace-making, reliability trial or speed-testing”), there was no mistaking we were in another jurisdiction.
Giant Turkish flags flew alongside their reverse-image counterparts of the Republic of Northern Cyprus (a country only Turkey recognises). There was also a notable increase in the number of heroic military monuments. A welcoming propaganda banner declared: “How happy to say I am a Turk”. And, disconcertingly, the names on road signs were all suddenly different: rendering us lost until we realised that Kyrenia – our general direction – was now something called “Girne”.
The currency had changed too – to the Turkish lira. That said, the euro remained welcome everywhere, and its importance may explain why our ultimate destination – the beautiful hilltop village of Bellapais (Beylerbeyi in Turkish) – was signposted in both languages. Boasting the 12th-century Abbaye de la Paix and the former home of Lawrence Durrell, who set his memoir Bitter Lemons here, Bellapais is one of northern Cyprus’s big tourist draws.
But you sense that everything in the north takes second place to the needs of the military. Driving south again, we saw a sign for St Hilarion Castle, whose fairytale shape is said to have inspired Walt Disney’s version. Being too late for a visit, we hoped at least to get a glimpse from the outside.
Sadly, the road up the mountain took us past a Turkish military installation. Or rather it didn’t. A soldier – not unfriendly, it must be admitted – waved us down to say that, since the castle was closing shortly, we couldn’t go any further. But it was definitely worth seeing, he added, and we should come back tomorrow. I didn’t tell him that we wouldn’t be back tomorrow, or perhaps ever.
Still, at least people can cross the border now – something locals and visitors alike were denied for three decades after 1974. Later, in Nicosia, we walked through one of the two pedestrian checkpoints, and this was even more interesting. From the busy Ledra Street – like Dublin’s Grafton Street on the Cypriot-controlled side – we strolled into the quieter alleys of northern Nicosia where all the shops were closing simultaneously and locals were heading for evening prayers in the Selimiye Mosque.
Begun 800 years ago as the Cathedral of St Sophia, the mosque encapsulates the complex history of Cyprus and the eastern Mediterranean. Its Christian Gothic origins are still obvious, but the minarets added after 1570 are unmistakably Muslim. The ubiquitous twin Turkish flags underline the point. And inside, the Gothic walls have been whitewashed, and the interior realigned with Mecca.
On another, shorter day trip from Paphos, we left the beaten path – literally – and drove the dirt track north towards Lara Beach: part of the Akamas peninsula, a wilderness that protrudes from the west coast of Cyprus like a rhinoceros horn.
A beautiful beach in its own right, where in August the Mediterranean is like a heated swimming pool, Lara is also famous as a nesting ground for giant turtles. We didn’t see any – the laying season is March to July – but we saw the nests, meticulously marked by conservationists and protected by cages.
THERE ISplenty to see in Paphos itself, too, especially if you like ancient ruins. This is the reputed birthplace of the goddess Aphrodite: conceived by the sea after her father, Uranus, had his genitals cut off and thrown into it.
But even in the realm of more verifiable history, the area has an embarrassment of riches. Much of it is contained in the Paphos archaeological site, still being slowly excavated having already yielded such treasures as the House of Dionysus, with its magnificent Roman floor mosaics.
Nearby too is St Paul’s Pillar – so-named because, according to tradition, the saint was tied to it and given 39 lashes for attempting to introduce Christianity. But the most dramatic ruins in Paphos are the Tombs of the Kings. A world heritage site, the title is a misnomer because there were no kings buried here, just the rich people of Paphos circa 2,000 years ago.
Regal in size, the tombs are like holiday homes for the wealthy dead. Like the best holiday homes, they even overlook the sea. On the downside, the site is sprawling and almost devoid of tree cover. And especially in August, you’re advised to bring a hat and a bottle of water – both of which I somehow forgot in my rush to get there before the hottest part of the day.
It was noon soon enough, anyway; and sheltering from the sun in the tombs themselves I noticed that, although there were a few Englishmen around, there were no dogs, not even mad ones. So rather than risk joining the cemetery’s population, I curtailed the tour early and headed back to the relative safety of the holiday village.
I got used to the heat, eventually. Or rather, I got used to short bursts of it, in between long periods in the pool, or the apartment, or the car. I also learned from experience not to walk barefoot on the paving stones during daytime. You really could fry an egg on them.
Even as we left Paphos, the temperatures and humidity were beginning to drop. And when we flew back into Dublin, where it was 15 degrees and raining, we were missing the sun already.
Frank McNally was a guest of Avanti Holiday Village, which offers one-bedroom apartments, sleeping up to five, on either a self-catering or B&B basis, with free child places for summer 2011. Guests may also use the facilities of the nearby Avanti Hotel, 00-357-2696-5555, avanti hotels.com
Where to eat on the Mediterranean island and where to go
Where to eat
- Ocean Basket. Paphos, 00-357-2696-1379. Extremely popular fish restaurant, part of a South African franchise, near the Avanti Village complex. Good value and choice, with main courses ranging from fish'n'chips for €5.50 to a platter of 30 king prawns for €54.
- 7 St George's Tavern. Yeroskepos, 00-357-26963176. 7stgeorgestavern.com. Atmospheric restaurant set in an old stone house in a village outside Paphos. Grows all its own food and specialises in Meze, the multi-course dinners for which Cyprus is famous.
- Archontariki Restaurant. Polis, 00-357-2632-1328, archontariki.com.cy. Fine food and impeccable service in pleasant surrounds, in a quiet street of Polis, an un-touristy town north of Paphos.
- Art Cafe Kivotos. Polis, 00-357-9955-5193. A lovely place with vine-shaded terrace and dark interior, offering sandwiches, cakes, and excellent iced teas.
- Kybele Bar Restaurant. Bellapais, 00-90-392-815-7531, kybele.biz. Beside the 12th-century Bellapais Abbey, with an open-air terrace overlooking the Mediterranean. Magnificent setting, mediocre food.
Where to go
- Tombs of the Kings. Paphos, 00-357-2694-0295. Now a world heritage site, this is where the wealthy of Paphos were buried from the 3rd century BC to the early Christian period. A must-see in Paphos, but if visiting in high summer, bring factor-50 sun block, a hat, and a litre of water.
- Lara Beach. Only a short drive north of Paphos, although much of the journey is off-road on a bumpy dirt track. Between March and July, giant turtles come ashore to lay eggs here, and the beach itself is magnificent. Also in the area is Avakas Gorge, through which you can hike, at least in the summer months.
- Green Line. Nicosia. The old city of Nicosia (Lefkosia in Greek), divided by the 1974 Turkish invasion, is a fascinating place to walk around. The post-ceasefire buffer zone, with its abandoned (and in some cases mined) buildings, only adds to the interest. But provided you bring your passport and don't take photographs in areas where it says "no cameras", you can now cross from the Greek-Cypriot south into the Turkish north and back, 24 hours a day.
- Bellapais Abbey. Bellapais. The ruins of 12th century Abbaye de la Paix, which gave the village its name, are worth seeing, if only for the views over the Mediterranean.