The Long Rocky Road Home

 

And continuing with the theme of little annoyances …

As I was packing up my stuff to leave the hotel, I broke the spoon rest I’d been using since Porto.  That thing lasted a whole year of travel and I break it in Georgia.  Nice.  I’m still going to use it though.

The flight I’d booked out of the country would take me to Philly and then onto Lisbon.  I actually prefer this method of getting out of the U.S. as it makes the transatlantic flight shorter (6 hours as opposed to the direct flight out of Türkiye that took 12 hours).  A good choice … except the flight got delayed.  Twice.  Then, for the first time ever in my traveling life, my flight got cancelled. 

Awesome!  Now what?

At least I’d already had a surprisingly good BBQ chicken pizza (served in a paper bag -- okay) so that I wasn’t starving during the delays.

I got into the very long line of disgruntled passengers for the front desk and heaved a great sigh.  I stood there for about 5-10 minutes, getting more annoyed as the through line for foot traffic was right in front of me, when my phone started pinging.  American Airlines had already rebooked me so there was no need to stand in line.  That was the good news.

The bad news was that instead of going to Philly, I was now headed to O’Hare (that airport is spooky), and Heathrow (yay!  Another stressful run-in with security!), on the way to Lisbon.  This route also meant that I would be too late to make my separate flight to Faro Airport and would have to rebook that one on my own.

Have I mentioned lately that I’m really tired of moving around so much?  That it’s the airports and the crowds, the waiting and the expense that is really getting on my nerves?  

I managed to get through O’Hare at a run so I wouldn’t notice the creepiness and quickly boarded my flight.  In Heathrow, my already tired self got into the stupidly long line for security and prepared for another hassle.  When my computer bag wasn’t flagged, I said Hallelujah so loud the woman next to me snickered.  Lady, you have no idea what I’ve gone through in this airport.

Happily, I arrived in Lisbon, an airport I know so well now I can maneuver around with ease. I was equally happy to see that my two checked bags made it to Lisbon with me (the cancelled flight had me worried). Except … where is the ticket booth for Tap Portugal?  I see the dedicated area for checking in bags, but what about arranging for a new flight?

After wandering around for a while, a woman pointed me in the right direction.  I got to the desk and explained my situation only to be told that the next flight was at 11 p.m. (it was around 3 in the afternoon) and for the privilege of waiting around in the airport for hours, I’d have to pay them another 150 euros.  Seriously?  For a 45-minute flight?

Titanically heavy sigh.

After being extorted, I got my ticket and grabbed a quick meal before heading to security.  This should be a breeze, right?  I mean, I’d traveled across the pond with everything intact and even avoided a long search at Heathrow.  So, nao faz mal (no worries in Portuguese), right?

Except … both of my bags had been checked for the overseas flight.  In order to do that, I had to shift some weight from the large roller bag to the small one.  One of the things I moved over was my big bottle of leave-in conditioner that I can’t get anywhere except from Amazon.  I’d also just filled it up so it was nice and full.

It’s trash now.  Thanks, Portuguese Security!

And I still had an hours-long wait for my flight.  I’d arrive in Faro after 11 after all the shuttle services were closed.  That meant another 100-euro taxi ride to the apartment – which the guy couldn’t even locate at first. And neither could I.

I mentioned in a previous post that the Google Fi service on my phone recently switched my home region from the U.S. to Portugal.  As expected, the service no longer worked in the U.S.  No big deal.  I’m still not a big phone user and most of the time I could just hook up to the hotel Wi-Fi if I needed anything.

Well, I’m back in my beloved Portugal.  Does my phone have full functionality in what is supposed to be my home country?  Nope.  I kept switching from Google Fi to the Esim I’ve been able to use in Cyprus, Türkiye, and Portugal and only the Esim will connect.  What am I paying Google Fi for again?  Oh, right.  Just to annoy and piss me off.

Just … why … this is ... I don’t even know.

The beauty part?  After all that, I finally did make it to the apartment in Portimão and I FREAKING LOVE PORTIMAO! I am very happy to be back here.  I couldn’t book the pink palace where I stayed for two months last year, but I scored a month in the other apartment I stayed in which is almost as good. 

 

And it's a good thing I like this apartment as I've spent more time inside than I'd planned.  The first week was marred with off and on rain almost every day.  The mornings would be sunny and glorious, then by the time I was ready to go out for a walk and lunch, the torrential rains would come.  Kind of annoying.

On one of the days I finally could get out, I went to the beach (of course).  After a long walk, I stopped by a restaurant I liked by the water.  As soon as I sat down, a waitress came over to remove the other 3 place settings.  She looked at me and said “Caipirinha?  Mr. T?”  I just stared at her.  The drink order was correct, but I didn’t recognize the Mr. T part.  I got the menu and noticed that Mr. T was their 30-euro steak entry.  Not what I ordered last time but similar to the steak that I did order.

THE WOMAN REMEMBERED MY FACE AND ORDER FROM 4 MONTHS AGO!!!  HOW?!  WHY?!

The waitstaff I’ve met on my travels have been wonderful.  They’re also a little scary.

Something else scary.  A little over a week after I arrived in Portimão, Heathrow was shut down because of a power outage.  Being a major hub, this disrupted travel for thousands of people.  It might take weeks to recover full function.  It looks like I slipped through just in time.

London’s Heathrow Airport closure causes global travel disruption

Short-Timing Istanbul

 

In travel, as in life, it’s the little annoyances that add up to a huge pain in the ass.

That pain started back in February while I was happily in Cyprus.  The renewal notice for my P.O. Box in the states was up for the year.  Okay.  I tried to log in to pay the bill, but my account had been disabled.  Okay.  Contacted USPS to get it enabled – never got a response.  Great.  Decided, screw it, I’ll send them a check and hope for the best.

Two weeks later, the check hadn’t cleared.  The expiration date on my contract was the last day of February, but the USPS gives you a grace period of ten days after that.  Tried calling the office in Georgia for confirmation that they had at least received the check even if they hadn’t cashed it and never got an answer.  As the date rapidly approached, I tried to open a new account and pay that way.  Nope.  The new account would only turn on automatic payments going forward – it would not allow me to pay the existing bill.

So, now what?

By this time, I had moved on to Istanbul with every intention of staying there until my visa expired in 90 days.  Now, with no other options that I could see and not wanting to risk having the box shut down and all my mail reforwarded, I was left with choice of last resort.

Sigh.

I did not want to return to the States … um … ever.  But certainly not so soon.  I’d just gotten off a plane and felt like my time in Türkiye passed way too quickly.  It didn’t help that the great apartment I’d landed in wasn’t available past the week, so I would have to move anyway.  Just getting out of the apartment was difficult enough in itself.

I mentioned in the last post that my most recent place couldn’t be found on Google Maps.  Apparently, that holds true for Uber as well.  Why does the GPS show my exact location but the driver has stopped a few blocks away?   We tried to message each other to connect, but I finally gave up and just started walking …

With all my crap, up a steep hill covered in uneven cobblestones.  Oy.  Fortunately, the cab/Uber pulled up behind me, so I didn’t have to go too far up that hill.

We had an easy trip to the airport.  I got out of the car and thanked him Turkish only for him to tell me that I owed him 2000 (about $50) lira.  Huh?  I’d used Uber to call him which means that my card would be charged.  I figured there had been a problem with the card as this had never happened to me before. He insisted I owed him money, taking out his calculator and showing me the amount.  I had no money on me – what the hell was I supposed to do?

The nearest ATM was inside, past the security scanners.  So, yes, leaving my luggage with the cabbie, I had to wade through security to get to the machine.  Cash in hand, I dashed back out only to find that the cab had disappeared.  This wasn’t a complete shock as I know you can only park in the drop-off area for a short time. But … where is he?

I wandered around for a good five minutes, getting increasingly upset and annoyed.  Finally, I spotted the guy and paid him.  It felt like paying off a kidnapper to get my luggage back, but I was so grateful he returned that I let it slide.

Thinking I’d resolve the issue later, I went through the usual rigmarole at the airport.  While I like Turkish Airlines and would prefer to just get a transatlantic trip over with as quickly as possible, I still had to prepare my butt for another 12-hour ride.

And that was a fun one, stuck in an aisle seat next to an elderly couple.  Any time the woman said anything, the man’s response was “Huh? Huh?”.  I didn’t know if he was hard of hearing or if he’d just learned to tune out his wife’s voice over the years.

Still irritated by the Uber issue, returning to the states, and the whole reason for the return in the first place, my first choice of in-flight entertainment didn’t help matters.  I’m a big Marvel fan and saw most of the movies in theatre through Avengers: Endgame.  I loved the first Deadpool movie and thought the second one was okay.  I was actually looking forward to seeing Deadpool and Wolverine … until the first scene.  I knew instantly that I wasn’t going to like the movie.  I was wrong.  I hated that movie.

It made my already bad mood truly take a nosedive.  I watched Inside Out 2 to try to lift my spirits.  It was okay.  Not nearly as good as the first movie, but it made for decent entertainment.

Back in the states and thrilled as always, I managed to get a shuttle directly to the rental car center.  Saved me a trip on the tram so that was some good news.  Not nearly enough to mitigate the outrageous price of car rental, but I’ll take what little perks I can get.

I drove the black Genesis car to the hotel.  Never even heard of this car company before and I’m not impressed.  The steering wheel would periodically jerk the car to the side, much to my chagrin while navigating the dark wet streets of Atlanta. 

I was back in the hotel I’d visited several times over the last two years only because I couldn’t find an Airbnb that I liked.  The two apartments I’d visited before and liked were both booked while the others were too far away or too remote for me to even try to locate in the dark when I was tired.  The hotel was in a brightly lit area and easy to get to.  The free breakfast was still tasty despite the exorbitant price of the hotel room.

Once I’d gotten settled in the hotel, it was onto handling business.  The main reason for my trip had been resolved before I’d even arrived.  One of the first things I pulled out of my mailbox was the receipt for the check.  My P.O. Box was secure for another year.  Whew.

H&R block confirmed that I wouldn’t have to file a tax return this year since I STILL have no money coming in.  That was some good news, but the joy only lasted for a minute.  Turns out, my card was charged for the Uber ride to Istanbul Airport.  What the hell?  That means the guy just mugged me. 

I put in a complaint with Uber and they asked for a screenshot to prove I’d taken cash out at the airport.  Tried to do that and my phone wouldn’t allow it.  Seriously!?  Normally, I would just log in on my laptop, but the bank’s website had been blocked on my machine for over a year.  I had tried to get the issue resolved on one of my previous trips to the states to no avail.

The little annoyances.  Remember? 

The issue is still unresolved because I just ran out of steam to try to get it fixed.  With a writing career going nowhere, an online business that is just bleeding money with no returns yet, and a steadily dwindling bank account, I just don’t have the bandwidth for any more challenges.

I am so tired of being frustrated.

Istanbul Awaits

 

If you get a chance to spend a winter in Cyprus, I do recommend it.  The beaches are mostly deserted, the weather is sunny and in the low 60’s most of the time, and it’s just a nice welcoming place.  I truly love it there.

But it was time again.  My 90-day visa was about to expire and, as my Schengen days haven’t quite reset yet, I decided to head back to Türkiye (surprise!).

Why there is no direct flight from Cyprus to Istanbul is baffling to me.  It’s right there! Instead, you’re expected to fly to Athens and get to Türkiye from there.  Even that was more difficult to book than it should have been. 

You can fly from Cyprus directly to Heathrow because, as I’ve mentioned before, the island is full of Brits.  You know where else you can fly directly to from Cyprus?  Warsaw, Poland.  Who’da thunk it?

So then this was the flight I booked, one that took me all the way up to Poland (hey!  A new country!), then all the way back down to Istanbul.  Makes no sense, but at least the trip went off without a hitch.

By this point, I’ve been to Istanbul numerous times.  I always take a cab as I usually get to the city pretty late and the Metro is closed (not that I’ve had much luck riding it anyway).  The cost to Balat (approx. 25 miles away) is around 1000-1400 lira (approx. $30-$40 USD).  Why then did the first cabbie I meet quote me 2300 lira ($60)?  Are you kidding me?  I realize that it was after midnight and they had me over a barrel, but that price is ridiculous!

After fumbling around for a bit and trying to get an Uber, I ran into a guy who offered to take me in his shuttle.  The price he quoted was the expected 1400 lira, but since that was all I had in my purse, I went to search for more cash just in case.  The first ATM was empty.  Great.  I went inside only to see the security set up to scan anyone entering the airport with no other access.  Sigh.

Back outside, I tried to hit Uber again.  The problem there was two-fold.  The first problem was that the address given by my host was not in Google maps so I couldn’t give Uber a proper address.  I would normally stay in one of Mehmet’s places in the neighborhood but since they were all booked, I chose a new place.  I called for an Uber anyway and thought we’d figure it out on the way.

The second problem arose when the driver messaged me to let me know that the airport doesn’t allow Uber to pick up in front of the arrivals gate.  Why?  As I’ve mentioned in a previous post, the Ubers in Türkiye are also taxis (taksis) so what’s the big deal?  Instead, I would have to go to him.

Walk through the long hall with the moving sidewalks to the Metro.  Take the elevator at the end – except, since the Metro was closed, the elevators didn’t work.  Cool.  Take the escalator – which also didn’t seem to work until I approached it and then it woke up. Try to get both roller bags and my tired self on the escalator at the same time.  Fail miserably and let the big roller bag slide down the metal stairs.  Well, better it than me.  I managed to make it down safely to see the cab waiting outside.

Oy.

I tried to tell the cabbie about the address issue and he didn’t have a better time finding the address than I did.  We got to Balat (yay!) and pulled up to an apartment.  He got my stuff out but, sweet man that he is, he again checked the address.  We both realized, on a narrow Turkish street at 2 in the morning, that we were at the wrong place.  Beautiful.

I then checked the message my host had sent me.  Now I know why he included pictures of the place and a separate link to a map.  Dude knew that Google maps didn’t acknowledge the address.  Following these new directions, we actually made it to the right place.  I will be forever grateful to that cabbie for not wanting to strand a foreign woman at the wrong address in the dark.  That man earned every penny of his tip.

The entrance was a new thing for me.  The metal gate can only be accessed by a keypad.  Funny thing, though, you have reach through the bars to get to it.  Really not a fun experience to figure out in the dark. 

The inner door is unlocked and leads to this ever so inviting entry way.

It was late.  I was tired and still optimistic enough to think that my apartment would be the one on the left so that I wouldn’t have to climb those accursed Turkish stairs with all my crap, but … no.    

I truly hate Turkish stairs.

Then it was onto another gated door in front of my apartment.  This one was unlocked and, when opened, awkwardly blocks the entire walkway (WHY?).  I grabbed the keys from the lockbox and finally got into the apartment.

Pictures didn’t do this place justice.  For a one-bedroom apartment in Türkiye, this place is HUGE!  I can’t get over it.  I love the separate office area off the living room where I naturally set up shop.  

There’s also a full-size fridge, a gas stove (thank you!) and an oven.  I don’t remember ever having an oven in Türkiye. 

But, even with all those goodies, there was no microwave.  It was almost perfect.

Then, there’s the noise.  Apparently, there are a couple of American yetis above me, stomping on the floor and talking loudly (that’s how I heard the English).  Also, and I have no idea what this is about, some jerk keeps playing the drums for a few minutes every morning at 3 a.m.  Is this some new religious tradition now that the 6:45 a.m. call to prayer isn’t done anymore?  I don’t know.

I haven’t been in this city in six months.  Been to Portugal and Cyprus (and really didn’t want to leave either country as I was very comfortable in each) since my last visit.  Why then does it feel like I never left Istanbul?  The place feels as familiar to me as ever and, while still being exhausting, I get why I keep coming back here by default.

Alas, Türkiye is about 20 degrees colder than Cyprus which really makes me miss the island.  My second full day was also drizzly in that special way that Istanbul does – just enough cold drops of rain to make everything wet and miserable.  Didn’t miss that from the winter of 2023.

But there are other things I did miss in Türkiye.  One of the items I love to get in the city is a special brand of coffee that I can only find in the Bim grocery store.  After having breakfast at my favorite place in Balat (Simit!  Give me that yummy sesame covered bagel so I can shove it in my face!), I looked forward to grabbing a handful of coffee (they come in individual packets as is very popular in Türkiye).

Why then when I went to Bim’s location, I found a Sok instead?  Sok is the other major grocery chain in the country.  They also have (had) a location just a block away from this Bim.  Sok does not carry my coffee.  What are you doing to me, Türkiye?  Why you go and change on me like that? Where my coffee at?

Fortunately, this was just one store as the Bim chain still exists.  I was lucky to find another location that's even closer to the apartment.  I happily left the store with my caffeine fix in hand.

The second day in the new digs, the power went out just as I was about to make breakfast. Okay.  I figured I’d wait a little while for it to come back on.  A few minutes turned into over an hour as the apartment got cooler and cooler without the heat on.  I gave up on waiting and decided to head out for breakfast.  But there was a problem.

Remember that metal gate at the entrance to the building I mentioned earlier that you have to use a keypad to enter?  Well, with the power off, that keypad doesn’t work.  I figured that one of the two keys provided would be for that gate.  Nope.  I had the wooden door open and was trying both keys in the metal door and could not exit the building.  That is a fire hazard.  Not to mention that, standing at the metal gate looking out onto the street, I felt like a prisoner in what is supposed to be a cozy Airbnb.

Power was restored after about an hour and a half.  With that issue resolved, I might just extend my stay.  It beats having to navigate my luggage down those stairs again any time soon.

A Quiet Place -- Larnaca Edition

 

And finally, it was time to escape all that construction noise.  I had arranged to get to Demetris’ place early and, of course, he was able to oblige.

Once again, I benefited from having a place in walking distance to the next place.  Even with the rough, uneven sidewalks, I managed to lug all my crap to the new/old place and arrived 30 minutes early.  I was just about to message Demetris when the man himself appeared holding up a new Nespresso machine.

He helped me upstairs and set up the new machine while I unpacked.  After showing me a couple of new things about the place, he wished me well and reminded me to let him know if I needed anything.  Somehow, I doubt I’ll contact him. 

This is still one of the coziest, well-equipped places I’ve stayed in during my travels.  From having plenty of cookware in the kitchen (and now a nifty new coffee machine), a clothesline and pins, as well as plenty of water and other liquids in the fridge, the place is still run by a conscientious host who considers his guests’ needs.  And yes, there was a fresh toothbrush and toothpaste waiting for me in the bathroom.  Still love that.

I was happy to be back in the place though I was a little concerned about more construction noise considering the view from the kitchen window.

As well as the street behind the apartment that was completely torn up since my last visit to the city.

But I awoke every morning naturally and not to the sound of shouting and banging.  Ah bliss!

I’ll be spending the last of my 90-day visa in Cyprus in this apartment.  Where I go after that is still up in the air and for good reason.

A word about Santorini: thousands of earthquakes in one week, a volcano waking up, and most of the island evacuated.  I hope those folks are alright.  The island may be a big tourist spot, but people want to forget about all the Greeks that call the place home who are now at risk of losing everything.  I particularly hope that the folks I met at the hotel in Perissa got out safely.

Now there are concerns about Türkiye.  The waters receded off the coast of Istanbul because of all the underground activity around Santorini.  Geologists aren’t sure if it is just a natural reaction to the shifting of tectonic plates or if it might signal a coming tsunami.  It’s just a wait-and-see situation now. 

Sigh. 

Too many places I’ve visited and liked are not doing so well.  Maui still hasn’t recovered from the fires they had in Old Lahaina and then the nightmare repeated in L.A last month.  Now this?  I don’t want to get all biblical, but we already had the plague wipe out millions, wars are still waging around the world, the orange regime is wreaking havoc on the U.S., and the planet itself keeps expressing its disapproval.  Existential dread seems to be the theme for the rest of 2025.

The Road to Larnaca

 

Time to move again.  While the apartment was decent enough, I could not handle that noise any longer.  Since I couldn’t find anything I liked in Limassol, I figured it was time to make my way back to Larnaca.

No issues figuring out the bus system this time.  The nearest stop for the intercity bus was about a ¼ mile away.  But …

Why why why did I see the exact bus I needed pass by me while I was on the way to the bus stop?  Seriously!?  Oh well.  Time to sit and wait.

And wait I did.  I was glad that it was a proper, uncrowded stop with a bench and that, at the very least, it wasn’t raining. 

About a ½ hour later, a cab pulled up in front of me.  The guy looked at me with all my bags and asked “Larnaca?”  I said yes.  “Airport?” Finikoudes Beach, I replied.  “80 euros.”  Hit the bricks, I gestured.

I’d rather wait all day at that bus stop, on a gorgeous Cypriot morning, to spend 4 euros for a ride as opposed to 80.  That extra 76 euros is grocery money – that I would have to spend on food anyway.  No thanks.  I made the mistake of taking multiple overpriced taxis all over the island last year.  I have learned my lesson:  just take the bus.  The green intercity buses may make you wait awhile, but they are worth every penny. 

Instead of driving off, the cabbie just parked there for a while.  I thought he was trying to wear me down for a fare, but I think he just wanted a nap.  He got a good one too.  It was another ½ hour before the bus finally showed up.

An hour later, I was back in Larnaca.  My new home for the week was a short walking distance away, again over uneven sidewalks.  The host, an energetic Brit, met me at the apartment and showed me around.

And it happened again.  I don’t know how Cyprus keeps doing it, but every new place just makes me long for the old place.   The first place I had in Paphos was pretty nice, all things considered.  My biggest issue was the iffy hot water situation.  The second place was colder and had the same water issues along with being noisier.

My first place in Limassol was the dump with the broken toilet seat and the curtainless shower (there were also bugs in the electric kettle that I didn’t mention before).  The second place was decent enough for a studio, but the construction noise was insane.  And now this place … sigh.

Tiny, cold, with a mini-fridge and no microwave.  Not good.

I took my first and only cruise back in December 2019.  I think my cabin’s bathroom was bigger than the one in this apartment.  That’s just wrong.

And the host told me about the construction going on only after I booked (apparently, the listing mentioned it, but I must have missed it).  After the last place, I figured it couldn’t be that bad.  Right?

Just like the last place, the construction is directly behind the apartment.  The drilling and hammering and yelling also begins at 7 am.  And so does my headache.  I’ve booked the place for 9 days.  Brilliant.

I get it.  Winter is the best time to do repairs and upgrades before the busy tourist season.  But must the construction noise follow me from city to city? 

The only consolation I have is that I’ve already booked my next accommodation for my last three weeks in Cyprus.  It’s the same place I stayed in last year that I really liked.  Demetris’ place is also in walking distance of this apartment.  I walked by it multiple times and heard … nothing.  Really looking forward to that.

I’ve mentioned that Cyprus is #3 on the list of places I could live and I stand by that choice.  Having the weather be 65 degrees and sunny most days in the winter is a must.  But upon returning to Larnaca during this time, I don’t think I’d want to live in this city.  It just seems to be more run down than I remember.  Finikoudes Beach is still nice with all the restaurants that front it.  But there are way more dead spaces throughout the city now.  It gives it this hollowed out feeling that just isn’t working for me.

Limassol was a little too much for me, so I think I prefer Paphos.  The harbor alone is enough to recommend that place.

Limassol Part 2

 

After a week in Limassol, I still miss Paphos.

While Paphos was mostly quiet with a gorgeous harbor, Limassol has a more big-city feel.  The main road that connects all the coastal towns is the main drag here and it’s less appealing than in Paphos.  There’s construction everywhere, so the sound of machines is constant.

There is one corner near the apartment that is constantly covered in motorcycles.  It reminded me of Thailand and the motorcycle taxis, but these were just delivery guys.  Wolt is the big company here for food and grocery delivery.

There is no nice harbor area nearby with a bunch of seaside shops and restaurants.  There is the old harbor near where I got off the bus from Paphos, but that’s two miles away from the apartment.  I’ve been on the good foot this whole time, so I have not returned to the harbor.

Along the shore there are small narrow beach areas, a broken-up boardwalk (which is annoying as the walkway just disappears for several feet and you have to cross the beach to connect to the next section), and lots of hotels and houses.  A couple of the seaside places have For Sale signs out front, but I don’t even want to know how much they would cost.

I knew I didn’t want to stay in the last place for too long.  The bathroom was starting to really piss me off (no pun intended).  And no, the owners never did show up to replace the lid.  Not that I was expecting them to – like I said before, whoever cleaned the place knew about the issue and never got it resolved.  No matter.  I cut out a night early and arranged to move to another place in the city.

Pro:  the new place is in walking distance, so no need to flag down a cab and try to convince some guy to do his job.

Con: despite getting me nearby, the directions from Google were (once again) not quite accurate.  It got me to the right street, but pointed me to the wrong building.  I had to text the host who sent me a link to a map (that one was accurate).

Pro:  the apartment is as the pictures depicted.  The ‘front’ room is the office area with a decent desk chair, a rarity in the Airbnbs I’ve visited.  As for the rest …

Con:  the listing didn’t specify that the place is technically a studio (usually a pass for me).  Turns out it’s this small, dark, window-less (well, one narrow window in the front and a frosted glass window in the bathroom), oddly shaped … thing.  There’s a sliding glass door hidden by that curtain with the bedroom/dining room/kitchen (and the only heating unit) beyond it.

Pro: the place is clean and functional.  No loose lid on the toilet this time and the shower stall has a door along with excellent temperature control and water pressure.

The ultimate con:  while the apartment is not what I expected, it is decent enough.  Except, of course for the noise.  All that construction I mentioned happening around the city?  Well, some of it is located directly behind the apartment.  And it is beyond annoying.

Seriously, how do these places just keep finding new ways of getting worse?

Still, I figured I’d make the best of it.  It helped that I already knew the area.

On Saturday, 1/25/25 I decided to go out to this place called Barley’s for breakfast.  It’s a British pub I’d visited before for lunch while enjoying some American R&B music from the 90’s.  What brought me back was the rare American breakfast offered on the menu.  I sat there reading while marveling that every song that came on made me feel like the restaurant tapped into my personal computer.  When my pancakes and eggs arrived, Paper Planes by M.I.A was playing.  That is only my favorite song of all time. 

American breakfast in a British pub on a sunny Saturday in Cyprus.  The whole experience put a smile on my face for the rest of the day.

The next day, Sunday, I woke up to the sound of electric saws.  At 7 a.m.  Are you f*&king kidding me?  Then, an hour later, the internet went out.  I switched to a different modem, which worked for a couple of hours ... then the power went out.  It stayed out for several hours.

So, no.  I won’t be extending my stay in this place.

On to Limassol

 

After 5 weeks in Paphos, I figured it was time to explore more of the island.  While I was reasonably comfortable in the apartment, the longer I was there, the more issues I encountered which led me to not extending my stay again.

The floors were constantly covered in this sooty residue and I know I wasn't tracking anything in.  I've mentioned before that the building was old and retained the cold.  I also think that the vents were spitting out this dust.  The constant hacking I heard from the neighbors would seem to confirm that theory (so much noise through the thin walls!).

I came back one day to find that the power had gone out.  No big deal, it's happened before in other Airbnbs.  This time, though, it was just mine and one other building in the immediate area and the power was off for hours.  I didn't want to leave to get dinner and have to fumble my way back in the dark, so I ended up having another no dinner night in the place.  Also, I couldn't take a shower because of the dark, so it was a fun night all around.  Power was mercifully back on by morning. 

So, once the three weeks were up, I thought it time to move on.  At least this time, I knew the bus system and should easily be able to move between the cities.  Right?

Why then was my first experience using the intercity buses so much easier than my second?  Despite knowing what I was doing this time, the travel day ended up being a complete mess.

First off, Google.  The Maps function usually doesn’t steer me wrong, but in this case, it told me to catch the bus in a municipal parking lot.  Okay.  That doesn’t sound right.  I entered ‘bus station’ repeatedly into my phone and it kept telling me to go stand in the middle of a parking lot where there was no signage, no bench, no nothing.  Seriously?

There was an elevator shaft nearby since the parking lot was at the base of a hill.  I took it up, expecting to finally see an actual station.  Nope.  Just a sitting area flanked by taxis.  I asked a cabby where I could catch the bus.  He made some vague gesture that the station was located elsewhere, but notably, did not offer his services.

That’s something I’ve noticed in Cyprus.  Not only are the cabs outrageously expensive, but the cabbies act like they don’t want to get a fare.  When I first left the apartment, I found a taxi stand a short distance away.  I told the lady I needed a ride to the bus station.  She told me it would be 10 euros, but that it was only a 15-minute walk.  Okay.  I guess I can walk it … with all my crap … over uneven Cypriot sidewalks … in the blazing sun … while holding my phone to get directions (to a parking lot).  Sure.  Sounds like fun.

And boy, was it.  I left the second taxi stand, thinking the station was nearby, but no.  After wandering around for a while, I returned to that same taxi stand.  I asked a different dude where I could catch the bus and he told me about the actual bus station that was about a mile away.  Just take me there.  Whatever money you want to charge me is fine – just get me there.

Arrived at Karavella station and waited.  And waited.   And waited.  There was a bus already there with signage for Limassol.  But that wasn’t the bus.  Plenty of other buses arrived that were also not the bus.  I really hate waiting.

Finally, a bus arrived and let out its passengers.  I knew the driver would take a break before reloading, as I’d watched others do during my stupidly long wait.  But, come on, dude!  I’ve already traveled over half the city, I’m tired, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I just want to get this travel day over with. 

Then, at last, we were allowed to board.  And no, at no point during the hour-long trip did we ever hit that parking lot that Google recommended.  Thanks for that.

I'm not sure why the bus driver had a mermaid doll splayed on his windshield, but I had to take a picture of it.

The trip went well enough.  The spaces between the cities consists of a whole lot of nothing.  Just huge rock mountains with a few scattered towns.  We hit some traffic coming into the city as Limassol is bigger and a lot busier than Paphos. 

I wasn't sure where the bus route would end but, as I was following our route on my phone, I thought to get myself as close to the apartment as possible.  I watched most of the passengers get off at the Limassol bus station, leaving me and one guy on the bus.  We got to the next stop and the driver got up and asked where we were going.  Before I even had a chance to answer, he yelled that it was the end of the line.  Fine.  I'm leaving.  You could have just said that as soon as you stopped.

Now I'm on the side of the road.  I recognize it as the place where I changed buses on the way to Paphos.  But what do I do now?  I'm staying in the city, I'm at least 2 miles from the apartment (and screw walking all that way after the day I'd had), and I didn't know the local bus system.  Sigh.  Time to catch a cab again.

And again, the taxi drivers ignored me.  I thought maybe they couldn't stop in the bus lane, but, as more and more taxis zoomed by me, I started to take it personally.  They see a woman with luggage on the side of road waving and think what?  I'm just being friendly?

I lugged my crap to a nearby taxi stand and managed to convince a cabby to do his job.  He got me to the place with no problem and I found my way into my new home for the week.

My last place wasn’t as nice as the first place I stayed in Paphos.  It was still cozy enough to extend my stay for 3 weeks.  The new place makes me miss the last place.

It's spacious enough and has a gas stovetop (thank you!) but ....

I hit the bathroom first thing (of course) and immediately noticed that the tub (Yay!) had no shower curtain (Boo!).  Why is this so hard for Europe to get right?  Even the last apartment had a partial partition on the shower stall.  But this place?  Yeesh.

Then, the real corker was the toilet.  Not only is the flushing mechanism confusing -- the knob on top that I kept trying to push down or twist until I figured out that you have to pull it up -- but the toilet lid just fell off when I tried to close it.  Are you kidding me?  You know that whoever cleaned the apartment KNEW that the toilet lid was loose but did nothing about it.  Oh, no, let’s just let it be a surprise for the first sucker who rents the place.

I hate that bathroom.

I messaged the host, not only to get it fixed, but to make sure I didn’t get charged for breaking the thing.  They said they’d be out to fix it at a time that was convenient for me.  We’ll see how that goes.  Until then, I’ll just be staring at a gaping toilet whenever I go in there.  (I’m keeping the door closed).

Once I found the big issues with the apartment, I really began to notice the small things.  And, boy, are there a lot of small things.  

Why is the floor so scuffed up?  I already don't like the white tiles as I prefer the hardwood I've had in most places.  But to see that the floor is this messed up (there are scuffs like this all over the apartment) just makes the place feel scruffy.

Why is there a lock on the refrigerator?  I have never seen that before. 

I’ve also never seen a patio with two sliding glass doors.  No screen door – two sliding glass doors.  WHY???

My first place in Paphos had a screen door – a rarity in Europe.  The only issue?  Whenever I’d open the door in the morning, a cat would appear and immediately start screaming at me.

I miss Paphos.