08/01/2025Phil’s Travels – Nicosia, Cyprus (12.24)
Phil’s Travels – Nicosia, Cyprus (12.24)
Like any young chap, our super son treasures his sleep and a good lie in at the weekend. So, when we had to leave home early on a Sunday morning for our flight to Xmas in Cyprus, we effectively stoked the fire and nurtured his ire. Not only was it an early start, but we also took the Elizabeth Line rather than a more relaxed taxi and at T5 we were moved from one end of the terminal to the other for Bronze membership check-in and back to the other end for security. So much physical activity early on a Sunday is not in his lexicon. But the biggest catalyst to outright grump status was that he had forgotten his new watch at home, having wanted to show it off to the Mediterranean branch of the family.
We all became somewhat grumpy in the slow security line. A family ahead of us was taking up three bays and taking an eternity to reduce seven clear bags full of toiletries to four at the request of the security staff. The family were totally unfazed by the impatience building behind them and seemed to go back and forth between their bays with their bags whilst the rest of Heathrow had to make do with the one bay left available.
We suppressed our frustrations at Giraffe with fry ups and boarded on time. The plane had 14 rows of Business – very nearly half the vehicle. Who knew Cyprus attracted so many wealthy folks? From my window seat I enjoyed a gorgeous moon rise for most of the flight.
[NOTE – English wine has truly come of age. Not only is it sold in Monaco and New York, but now it is being sold at Heathrow T5 Duty Free. Well done you winegrowers.]
Outside Larnaca Airport, we were greeted by a powerful animal stench – mostly likely local farmers fertilising. Not a good first impression for a tourist destination. We collected our hire car as quickly as possible and drove to Nicosia and away from the countryside aromas.
After complaining of death by a thousand charges (although I had ticked all the boxes online for fully comp insurance, on check-in they offered me even fuller comp for yet another charge, which I took as I don’t trust these sneaky car hire firms), we were given an upgrade in the form of a Skoda Scala (scala = staircase in Greek; not sure what it means in Czech) in ‘memorial blue’ (in memory of Old Faithful, our sadly crushed 28-year old formerly blue Rover 214). The engine had a thoroughly boisterous growl and no disconcerting turbo lag (as per summer’s car). It all started terrifically, but as I got to know the Staircase better it revealed some very strange habits: on occasion it would block first gear (a predilection that it particularly enjoyed at traffic lights); the brake pedal swapped between all or nothing; there was no tolerance in the clutch; the fuel-saving had a mind of its own (not always engaging when still and turning the engine on by simply opening a window); and finally, the steering became sticky and jerky at high speeds. Oh, and the horn was pathetically puny.
In Christmases past in Cyprus, we have enjoyed wonderfully warm (20C during the day) and sunny weather. This Christmas, we suffered an English-style climate: grey, cloudy, rainy, windy and cold throughout the day. The sun appeared on a few occasions for a few hours and often when we were stuck indoors. For example, my first week was a blur of spreadsheets and Teams calls as I worked on multiple live projects and missed many solar rays. Not much holiday was had for some time, much to the frustration of family.
The big event of the holiday was Yaya’s big recognition. Yaya is something of a celebrity on-island, having been Cyprus’s first female journalist, the first woman to own and drive her own car and an active member of EOKA in the island’s fight for independence against the British. As a consequence of such an interesting life, the University of Cyprus (which happens to also be home of the national archive) was honouring Yaya by compiling an archive of her life and works for all posterity. The nation’s treasured archives are housed in the university’s library – an extraordinary building – in a secure and temperature controlled basement zone. It was designed by Jean Nouvel and opened in 2019. Referred to as the ‘earth work’ library, it is a remarkable product for €35m. It looks like an old circus tent from the outside (was meant to be covered in plants but found to be too expensive in such a dry and hot place) and a futuristic spaceship on the inside, full of cutting-edge curves, boxes and a giant spike through its heart.
Our first excursion after a week of daddy working was my wonderful wife and me taking the Staircase to a hotel in Vouni up in the mountains. We have stayed here before and it was just as lovely as before (aside from the standalone bath having been replaced with a rubbish pool-sized Jacuzzi). Despite its wine references (it is called Oinou Strata, meaning wine street, and each of the three rooms/suites being named after grapes and a wine region) the actual wine list was somewhat limited in scope but included some gems. My wonderful wife delivered big time with Sky on her iPad, whereby I could watch the Red Men thrash Spurs over a superb local bottle of wine and some nibbles in our guesthouse bar – just us and Janacas, our sole host supreme.
Our drive up the slopes took in some mountain villages we had targeted for their Christmas markets (a recent feature for the island). Agros was by far the busiest village, in which we spent some time dodging locals on foot and in cars. We stopped for lunch and ate the best lamb souvla for years. Platres’s market was paltry (even though it is a much bigger and more famous tourist-oriented village).
Next day we explored more mountain routes and a couple of wineries. Kostas was closed and sadly ill. Nearby we visited a tiny winery (almost just a hole-in-the-wall) with delicious wine juice goodies from local Xinisteri grapes and a star third generation wine maker. The old man was old school (wine in plastic bottles) but daughter very much new school (perhaps best label designs on-island, skulls made of vine leaves and butterflies). Final winery much bigger and commercial and making a truly excellent sparkling (English sparkling was his inspiration whilst studying oenology at Brighton).
The second major excursion (Xmas Eve) was to Spilia for graves and churches visits and a mountain man lunch at Chrysanthis (wine sausages, fried eggs and bbq goat), and bookended with another Xmas Market (this time in Kyperounda). The whole day was shrouded in cloud and on-off precipitation and on the higher slopes our heads were literally in the clouds. All very moody and northern European.
On another day, we drove to Limassol to see an old friend and client, and had a lovely lunch at the Four Seasons (which is not an actual Four Seasons but is famously permitted use of the name because of its registration way before Canada even knew where Cyprus was). The restaurant boasted a stunning wine wall (including Petrus and Romanee-Conti) but not sure how often it turns over such treasures given the UHNW Russians were no longer coming.
I had not remembered just how confusing Xmas can be in Cyprus. Particularly with regard to gift giving. In the UK gift giving day is Xmas Day itself. In many European countries it is 5 or 6 Dec (latter being St Nicholas Day, saint of kids and giving to kids). Even though Nick was a Greek saint, the Greeks give on New Year’s Day, which is St Basil’s Day (their gift giving saint). In Russia, 6 Jan is gifting day. So given Cyprus has many British influences, European traits, Greek traditions and Orthodox tendencies what chance does a simple chap like yours truly have of keeping up and giving his paltry gifts on the right day?
People back home had asked me, “What do you eat for Xmas in Cyprus?” The answer is simple. My reply, “Kebab”. The fact is kebab is the default for every celebration in Cyprus. Kebab for birthdays. Kebab for Name Days. Kebab for Easter. Kebab for office parties. Kebab for births. Kebab for christenings. Kebab for engagements. Kebab for weddings. Kebab for divorce. Kebab for funerals. Kebab for memorials. Kebab for bank holidays. Kebab for national days. Kebab for New Year. Kebab for first car. Kebab for anniversaries. Kebab for 18th, 21st, 50th and any other remarkable date. Kebab for awards day. Kebab for library archive award. Kebab for mountain men. Kebab for beach parties. Kebab for reunions. Kebab for old friends. Kebab for new friends. Kebab for in-laws and outlaws. Kebab for Sunday lunch. And especially kebab for first and last days in Cyprus. I suspect the only day in anyone’s year in Cyprus without kebab is probably 3 March (unless of course it falls on a Sunday).
The lousy weather for much of our stay was brought to us by Depression Elena. One day Elena was so depressed that the rain was torrential and Nicosia’s roads became a wetland of rivers and lakes throughout the city. Driving around I noticed that the summer’s pointless red rods outside our favourite baker had all gone. As pointless as expected.
We met with some friends for a coffee at Paul Hollywood’s favourite filo pastry place. Watch Paul Hollywood’s City Bakes Cyprus and you will know what I mean (in which he is chicken and does not try to fling a bedsheet-sized dough around his head in order to make the thinnest giant-sized wafer you’ve ever seen). The place is called Yiayia Viktoria and is right on the Green Line in the Old Town and well worth a visit.
Despite its strange habits, the Staircase was reliable and interesting to drive and on its return to the airport we had no issues. Our best car of the year, though, was definitely the toy-shaped Hyundai i10 in Corfu
We had been forewarned by a week or so that our BA return was brought forward by 50 minutes. On the day, it was delayed 40 mins. Note to BA design team: new seat livery is nice (like the red trim); lack of seat recline not good; larger luggage racks great; coat hook impossible to use unless you have the finger strength of a Hulk. The wifi was not working, again. These days the only good thing about flying BA is its luggage allowance, very generous and no extra charges for additional hand luggage items – which is very useful for returning Cypriots loaded with Yaya’s goodies.
We landed close to scheduled time and were accompanied by a pairing of crescent moon and a bright star (planet?) most of the way home. The luggage was particularly sluggish and the black cab ride home particularly quick. London was clearly still in a festive mood and taking life easy. And why not. Happy New Year to all!
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