In Greece, the locals made Cyprus out to be a bit of a war zone, warning us not to “go near the Turkish Cyprus border or you will shot or kidnapped or worse.” Upon our arrival at Taylor's apartment in the split Turkish Cyprus/Greek Cyprus capitol of Nicosia, we found this to be inordinately inaccurate. The Greek side of Nicosia was far and away the most cosmopolitan city we visited thus far into our trip. We spent the first few days jogging in the park in the morning, exploring the old beautiful streets and stores in the afternoon, then meeting with Taylor after work to dine on a gourmands dream of any type of food you wanted including tapas, sushi, steak…truly whatever your palate desired. It was so first world I felt for a bit like we were in America.
After the first few days of western pampering, we were ready to hit the road again. We borrowed Taylor's car (thanks Taylor!!) and headed to the south eastern corner of the island to a beach right on the border with Turkish Cyprus named Ayia Napa. Despite the warships patrolling the underwater border, the beach was rife with English, Russian, and other European tourists. It felt a bit like Cancun. It wasn’t really our scene, but we enjoyed relaxing on the beach and reading our books.
The next day we headed to Paphpos on the south western corner of the island to the mythical location of Aphrodite’s birth called Petra Tou Romiou (Rock of the Greek). The locale was stunning, breathtaking, and magnificent. We sat on a cliff looking down over a single rock spire protruding from a white pebble beach. The spire is said to be the place where Aphrodite was born.
Locals and tourists alike construct large hearts in white stones on the beach where the love goddess was born. On one section of the pebbles, a French tourist posed the question to his lover in these white stones “will you marry me?” We were left to speculate as to what her answer was but given the stunning, and romantic surroundings I can only imagine she said “oui.”
After our initial observations, we went on a nice jog on a hilly foot path through the surrounding cliffs. The parks service labeled the plants along the path by name and species. This is how we learned that the country Cyprus is named after a tree and not the late great rap group Cyprus Hill. Sufficiently heated at the end of our jog so we then went for a dip in the loving drink and watched the sunset over the Mediterranean.
The next day, we awoke at Taylor’s house and decided we would head to the entirely opposite side of the island, the northeast corner and the renowned Karpis Peninsula. This entailed crossing from Greek Cyprus into Turkish Cyprus, a feat which the Greek locals assured us was certain doom. It turned out to be the easiest border crossing we experienced. No line. No hassle. No problem, and also, no stamp in the passport—just a piece of paper. My dad always used to say “a wise man believes none of what he hears and only half of what he sees.” I can’t tell you how many times this seems to have been the case in our travels. After the ohh so easy border crossing, Nicosia loses its cosmopolitan feel. It is a bit more run down on the Turkish side but it is still a pleasant and functional city. All the signs switch from Turkish to Greek and you find yourself staring up at two of the largest Turkish flags I've ever seen etched into the side of the mountain. There is no subtle change. You certainly know which side you are on.
After finding our way to the highway using Turkish signs, we drove two hours into the east, away from the setting Cypriot sun, before arriving at the Karpis Peninsula. Because Turkey and Azerbaijan are the only two countries that recognize Turkish Cyprus’s Independence, foreign investors are incredibly leery of purchasing land or investing in infrastructure on this side of the island or even close associations with the no mans land (hence the no passport stamp). The local population is too small to make a huge economic contribution. The result is an almost completely undeveloped, pristine Mediterranean peninsula, the Karpis Peninsula.
A gentleman named Burhon grew up in Karpis as the son of some local shepherds. He began shepherding, as well, but also commuted to a nearby college to pursue a degree in accounting. After working the dual job of both sheperd and accountant, Burhon took on a third occupation. He purchased some land on a pristine beach on the Karpis Peninsula and aptly named the beach “Burhon’s Golden Beach.” He built some bungalows along Burhon's Golden Beach and became a shepard/accountant/hotelier. As the years grew on, Burhon realized how wonderful it was to be able to spend all his spring, summer, and fall months at the beach, and then travel in the winter. So, he dropped the sheperd/accountant gigs and became a full time hotelier.
We arrived to Burhon's small bungalow getaway to find him sipping some Cypriot wine. We asked how much it would be to pitch a tent on his land. He said there would be no charge. So there we were, camping for free on a beautiful secluded golden beach in a land that didn’t technically exist. The days at Burhon’s place were fantastic. We jogged in the morning, read on the beach during the day, and hung out with Burhon and his staff at night. One particular gentleman working for Burhon, Ali Kaba, became our good friend and, I hope, he is reading this blog post right now!! After only a few days at Burhon’s place, we felt so welcome that it was difficult to leave and we were already planning our next trip back.
Driving back to the Greek side of Cyprus, we reflected on just how different the two sides are. On the Greek side, because the area was a British commonwealth, signs are in Greek and English, nearly everyone speaks English, there are floods of English tourists, and the area is much more western. Turkish Cyprus was our first taste of Islamic hospitality. Our western readers might think I am making a slight; but, in truth, the majority of the most hospitable places we’ve been have been predominately Islamic.
After returning to Taylor’s place in the middle of the island for a night, we decided to head to what the Greek Cypriot Tourist Board touted as their untouched piece of nature—their answer to the Turkish Cypriot Karpis Peninsula—We headed towards the Northwestern point of the island, the Akamas Peninsula. The Akamas Peninsula was untouched by some standards, but, after Burhon’s place, I think we were a bit spoiled.
We camped on the Akamas for free amidst a field of goats and camper vans (some of which had been abandoned long ago and some of which were falling to pieces yet still housed locals). It was kind of like a camper van hospice & graveyard/goat pasture.
There are many wild donkeys--our car in the morning after camping
We went on two excellent day hikes along the brook where Aphrodite & Adonis mythicaly first made whoopie.
It was gorgeous and serene; but, after Burhon's place, it was a scosch too mainstream for our liking. We decided to head back to Burhon’s as soon as possible.
The following day, a Friday, the wonderful Ms. Taylor Kanzler, was off from school and we all went to Burhon's together. After 2 more perfect day’s at Burhon’s Golden Beach, we flew from the Turkish Cypriot airport, Ercan.
Before arriving in Cyprus, we were assured by Greek mainlanders that flying into Larnaca (on the Greek side) and out of Ercan (on the Turkish side) would be impossible. That night we flew from Ercan to Istanbul where my family was scheduled to arrive and meet us the next day. I guess we completed the impossible.
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